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) 


HOENEHTJEST 

RECTORY. 


, by 

SISTER MARY FRARCIS eLARE,C - 

AUTHOR OF “illustrated HISTORY OF IRELAND,” “LIFE OP ST. PATRICK,” 

ETC., ETC. 


In two volumes. 

VOL. I. 




NEW YORK: 

D. & J. SADLIEE & COMPANY, 

31 BAECLAY STREET. 

Montreal: — Corner of Notre Dame & St. Francis Xavier Sts. 

18 T 2 . 


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/ 


Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1S72, by 
D. & J. SADLIER & CO., 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C 



EDWARD 0. JENKINS, 
PRINTER AND STEREOTYPER, 
NO. 20 N. WILLIAM ST., N. Y. 



PREFACE. 



I HE author of this work, Sister Mary 
Francis Clare, of the Order of Poor 
Clares, Kenmare, County Kerry, Ire- 
land, is one of the most successful writers of 
the age, both as regards the great number and 
variety of her productions and their extraor- 
dinary circulation and popularity. Indeed, it 
has been remarked, and with truth, that seldom 
has an author produced so numerous and varied 
works, that have been greeted with such extensive 
patronage and universal approbation. The press 
of Continental Europe, America, and Australia 
have vied with their brethren of Great Britain and 
Ireland in commending the merits of the works 
of this now celebrated author. 

The present work, though one of fiction, con- 

( 5 ) 


6 


PREFACE. 


tains pictures of real life, and may be said to be 
founded on fact, as it describes the personal ex- 
periences of the distinguished authoress ; who 
though a member of an ancient and illustrious 
Irish family, and born in Dublin, spent a great 
portion of her life in England, is a convert from 
Protestantism, and had been, previous to her con- 
version, for five years a member of a Protestant 
Community in that country. The plan of the 
work is broad and comprehensive, embracing, 
besides, a variety of interesting objects, and it is 
undoubtedly one of the most remarkable books 
of the day. It will be read with thrilling inter- 
est both in and out of the Church. 



H ORNE-HURST Rectory. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE RECTORY, AND HOW THE RECTOR CAME THERE. 

HE Earl of Castletown was in a brown 
study. He appeared altogether to have 
forgotten that it was breakfast time, and 
that his breakfast lay untasted before him. The 
cause of the said forgetfulness was twofold : first, 
an advertisement in the Times ^ which lay open be- 
fore him ; and second, a letter which his lordship 
held in his lordship’s aristocratic hands, and which — 
But you shall read the advertisement first ; here it 
is, verbatim et literatim : 

Valuable village advowson (between ;^8oo and 
£<^oo a year) for sale, in one of the most beautiful 
counties in England. Incumbent in seventieth 
year. Prospect of early possession. Superior resi- 
dence, lawn and garden ; several acres of rich and 
I* (9) 



10 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


highly-cultivated glebe, with suitable buildings. 
District healthy ; neighborhood good. Population 
under 500; outgoings small; poor-rates light; re- 
nowned trout and grayling fishing ; postman calls 
every morning and evening; two railway stations, 
also a well-supplied market town within one hour’s 
drive ; six hours from London. — Letters to be ad- 
dressed,” etc., etc. 

The letter was from the earl’s youngest son. 
Lord Adolphus Rossmore, who was then studying 
for the Church at Trinity College, Dublin. The 
earl was a staunch Englishman of the true church- 
and-state type. He would have preferred that his 
son’s education should have been completed at 
Oxford. But there were some prudential motives 
which induced him to select the Irish Protestant 
University : It was cheaper — the earl was poor. It 
was untainted with Puseyism — the earl abhorred 
even what he conceived to be the shadow of Po- 
pery. The education of the young nobleman was 
now almost completed. He was fairly up in clas- 
sics, and just escaped plucking in mathematics. 
Theology, of course, was an unimportant consid- 
eration. Until the theology required to be believed, 
and supposed to be taught by clergymen of his 
persuasion, should have been more clearly defined, 
there really seemed no reason why a man should 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


II 


be taught any religion at all. After all, should he 
notin the end make up his mind for himself whether 
he would be High Church or Low Church ? Mus- 
cular Christianity had not then been heard of, and 
the Broad Church could only be said to be repre- 
sented by those who had a more or less deliberate 
preference for the broad way. 

There was a consideration, however, which both 
the earl and his son considered of the first impor- 
tance. The earl, I have said, was poor. The fam- 
il}^ living was in possession of a young uncle, who 
seemed to have no idea of dying to oblige his young 
nephew. How was Lord Adolphus' to be provid- 
ed for? The earl hoped for some lucky chance. 
A very lucky chance had just turned up, but, like 
all earthly sunshine, it was followed by its shadow. 
A prize in the matrimonial lottery seemed the best 
means of supplying the deficiency in the paternal 
estate ; but could the Earl of Castletown-on-Curnbre- 
mere receive a pawnbroker’s daughter into his fam- 
ily, even though there were fifty thousand golden 
reasons for so doing ? 

The advertisement in the Times ^ and Lord Adol- 
phus’s letter, telling, I cannot say his love, but his 
prudential inclinations, happened to synchronize. 
The earl believed in Providence (sometimes), and 
said it w'as providential. He would purchase the 


12 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


valuable village advowson would hope, if he did 
not pray, that the incumbent might soon go to 
heaven ; and his son should marry the fifty thousand 
reasons. Of course none of the earl’s family would 
go to the wedding, and they could quite easily avoid 
any intercourse with the lady’s family both before 
and after that event. How far such a line of con- 
duct might conduce to the matrimonial felicity of 
the young couple was an idea which did not dis- 
turb, or indeed ever enter into his lordship’s calcu- 
lations. 

There was the usual amount of lace flounces, 
orange blossoms, bride-cake, favors, white gloves, 
compliments, and speeches ; every one said it was 
a very pleasant wedding — in one word ; though 
malicious people' did remark — well, well, no mat- 
ter what they said ; if the reverend and noble bride- 
groom looked grave, it was no affair of theirs. Af- 
ter all, matrimony is sometimes a serious business, 
even when a man weds fifty thousand in hard cash, 
and a pretty face. 

The bride did not look grave. People said — 
what matter what they said ? — people will talk, even 
if they are not malicious, and perhaps there might 
have been a touch of envy in their remarks. It is 
not every day that a pawnbroker’s daughter mar- 
ries a lord, and a reverend lord into the bargain; 


HORNEHURST RECTORY. 


13 


and why should she not have loved him, why sup- 
pose she did not mean what she said when she sol- 
emnly promised to love, honor, and obey.” 

The wedding took place in Dublin, at No. 150 
Merrion Square East. Any one who wishes to 
identif}^ the locality can do so at his leisure, and 
no doubt will receive the reward of his laudable 
curiosity. 

Old Barney Burke had been dead several years. 
The old man had made his money hard, and he 
knew how to keep it. He had no son and heir, or 
doubtless there would have been special stipula- 
tions attached to the will, of living in the old shop 
in Crane’s Alley ; but girls could not exactly be ex- 
pected to keep up a pawnbroker’s establishment ; 
particularly when they had receiv^ed an education 
far beyond their station. 

Mrs. Burke was a lady both in head and heart. 
She had married Barney to save her family from 
ruin ; and though it was no love match, Mrs. Burke 
might have done worse. Barney was a good hus- 
band and a kind husband ; he sometimes starved 
himself certainly, but he never starved his wife, and 
he loved her as much as he could love anything ex- 
cept his gold. Mrs. Burke’s more aristocratic con- 
nections had contrived to forget her after her mar- 
riage. Her father and mother died soon after the 


14 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


birth of her first child, and her graceless brother 
squandered the property which she had tried to save 
by an unequal marriage, and absconded to Australia. 

Poor Mrs. Burke ! her life was not a happy one, 
and yet, as we have said, she was not positively 
^ unhappy, and that was something. Her affections 
were strong, but very quiet. She was one of those 
happily constituted beings who can love passively, 
and she could live on this kind of love. She was 
grateful to Barney because he never asked her to 
mix with the low company with whom he was ne- 
cessarily associated ; and so she lived almost alone, 
centering her love and anxieties in her three little 
girls. When Barney died and left her rich and in- 
dependent, she would have preferred retiring to 
some quiet country place ; but the young ladies 
had arrived at a going out ” age, and were by no 
means disposed to acquiesce in her selection of a 
residence. They had already become conscious 
of their charms, and had begun to win golden opin- 
ions from all men. The curate of the parish paid 
a great many visits of condolence, and in fact 
seemed to think their grief after their lamented 
father required very special and very spiritual con- 
solation ; while more than one flattering invitation 
to attend army and navy balls had found its way 
to the obscure region they inhabited. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


15 


The young ladies were not without their share 
of ambition. The respective value (or merit, if you 
will) of esquire, knight, baronet, and earl, had been 
already canvassed. They knew their worth, and 
were fully prepared to enter the matrimonial mar- 
ket, and dispose of themselves to the highest, f. e., 
in their estimation, the most aristocratic bidder. 
As to Mrs. Burke, poor soul, her imagination and 
wishes had never extended beyond a country cu- 
rate or a popular dissenting preacher. Her only 
anxiety was that her girls should marry respectable 
and pious men. 

The house in Merrion Square was taken and duly 
furnished, costliness being the order of the day. 
Mrs. Burke did not wish to go into society ; she 
even refused invitations from her relatives, some 
of whom had lately discovered that dear Ellen had 
at last emerged from her retirement ; had wondered 
where she had hidden herself all these years ; had 
asked so many times where she could have con- 
cealed herself; and had tried so often, and so inef- 
fectually, to discover her residence ; it was posi- 
tively charming to see her again after so many 
years, and to find her so little changed ; if she really 
could not make up her mind to go into society her- 
self, at least she must not hinder the dear girls from 
a little enjoyment. Parties were made at once for the 


1 6 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

special purpose of introducing them to certain mar- 
riageable sons ; and the ladies, we mean the ma- 
ternal ones, vied with each other who should 
chaperone the Burkes whenever they condescend- 
ed to appear in public. 

Ellen Burke took it very quietly. She was one 
of those marvellously charitable individuals who 
cannot think evil. We are sorry if you have never 
met with such persons; they are in existence, but 
it is true they only appear at rare intervals ; per- 
haps one or twice in half a century. They have 
excuses for everybody and ever3Thing ; and though 
the}^ cannot help feeling an injustice or an injury, 
still it costs them so much to think the person 
guilty who has inflicted it, that for the sake of 
their own peace of mind (would it were for a 
higher motive !) they literally can think no evil. 

Mrs. Burke was sure her friends had really often 
thought of her, and had often wished to discover 
her residence. It was very kind of them to find 
her out now at last, and pay her so much atten- 
tion. Of course she knew it was only natural when 
she married so much beneath her that they should 
be rather ashamed of the connection ; it did not 
occur to her that although Barney Burke the 
pawnbroker was dead, she was still a pawn- 
broker’s widow, and her children a pawnbroker’s 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


17 


daughters. Her daughters were not quite so char- 
itable. Poor girls, their position was a peculiar one ; 
and even with the golden halo in the background, it 
was not enviable. Their wealth and their education 
had placed them beyond their station ; and though 
their mother was a lad}^ in ever}^ sense of the word, 
their father’s connection was low ; he had not pos- 
sessed that native refinement, that natural aristoc- 
racy, so often the heritage of even the lowest class 
of Irish ; and, unfortunately, the girls had partaken 
of the paternal nature. They were not ladies in 
mind or feature, scarcely so even in manner; but 
the golden halo aforesaid wonderfully illuminated 
the lookers on ; and when the Reverend Lord Adol- 
phus Rossmore proposed for, and was accepted by 
Judith Burke, every one declared (except a few ill- 
natured young ladies past the marriageable age) 
that she “ was a charming girl, and he a most for- 
tunate man.'' 

But why did Lord i\dolphus look grave on his 
wedding day? Ah, why? Lord Adolphus had 
that extremely inconvenient commodity called a 
heart ; and Lord Adolphus was a perfect gentle- 
man, and had, perhaps, more than an ordinary 
share of sensitive, refined feeling. There was a 
young girl in the parish of whom Lord Adol- 

phus could have loved with an unbounded affec- 


1 8 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 

tion ; but Mary Manners was only the daughter of 
a village doctor; and worse still, Mary Manners’s 
father was so poor, in spite of his profession, that 
she was obliged to go seek a situation as a gov- 
erness. What would the world say if Lord Adol- 
phus made such a match ? So, poor man, he nev^er 
“ told his love.’’ Some way Mary Manners knew 
it, but she never told hers either ; and if she looked 
a little paler for a few weeks after hearing of the 
intended marriage, no one suspected there was any 
cause beyond the summer heat, then unusually try- 
ing. And yet for the honor of womanhood let it 
not be misunderstood. Mary Manners had not 
fallen in love with the handsome and aristocratic 
young clergyman ; though, under the circum- 
stances, perhaps some people would think she 
might have been excused if she had done so ; but 
Mary was a true woman, and had a woman’s pride 
as well as a woman’s heart. She knew that Lord 
Adolphus was poor ; she knew he could scarcely 
have wedded a penniless girl without entailing 
misery on both ; and though she could not help 
seeing that he admired her, and perhaps even loved 
her, she knew what prudence and duty required, 
and her head was strong enough for the trial which 
her heart exacted. 

Two years^had passed away since the wedding 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


19 


SO lately recorded. The incumbent of the valu- 
able advovvson,” contrary to all precedent on such 
occasions, had been so obliging as to die. Lord 
and Lady Rossmore removed from the curacy to 
which he had been ordained, and settled them- 
selves in the well-appointed parsonage of Horne- 
hurst. Mary Manners had been married for 
nearly a year to the rector of a neighboring parish. 

It was just the beginning of summer ; warm days 
and showery ones were succeeding each other like 
smiles and tears in human life. A frail little body 
that contained a new-born soul was wrapped in 
flannels and shawls and magnificent baby clothes ; 
and they were duly aired, wind and weather per- 
mitting. We have said “they"’ advisedly, for the 
unfortunate infant was so closely enveloped in the 
said garments, and so carefully covered by veils 
and sheltered by parasols, that it certainly was not 
aired, though its exterior coverings might have 
been ; and humane people lived in daily dread of 
seeing a corpse instead of a living babe when the 
unfortunate child was again permitted to behold 
the light of heaven after a morning walk. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE rector’s duties, AND HOW HE FULFILLED 
THEM — WE GO BACK A YEAR AND MORE IN OUR 
ANNALS. 

“ Untouched with any shade of years 
May those kind eyes forever dwell/’ — Tennyson. 

OR God’s sake, run. Jemmy, and if the 
doctor isn’t at home, tell Miss Mary ; sure 
she’s near as wise as himself; leastaways,” 
continued the old woman to herself, for Jemmy was 
already far on his road to the little village of Say- 
tonmere — leastaways her smile would quiet a thun- 
der storm if she only looked it fair in the face.” 

Poor Mrs. Stokes ! Mary’s kind smile and gentle 
words had often comforted her, and no wonder she 
thought they would prove a specific in other cases. 

A fearful accident had occurred in the mill near 
Saytonmere, and one of the sufferers, a lad who had 
but lately come from London, was carried to Mrs. 
Stokes’s cottage, it being much nearer than the 

(ao) 



HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


21 


place where he lodged. She was a widow and very- 
poor; but when Tom Wilson was brought on a 
shutter to her door, she never once thought of her 
poverty, or the trouble such an inmate might 
bring. 

The good doctor soon arrived. Mary was with 
him, for the boy, in his hurry, had declared they 
were both wanted ; and so, in truth, they were, for 
it is seldom that suffering is not lightened and re- 
lieved by a woman’s presence. Tom had been 
dreadfully scalded from head to foot, and in his 
agony the poor boy cursed and swore in a manner 
too awful to repeat. Mrs. Stokes had uncon- 
sciously added to his sufferings, being ignorant, as 
the poor unfortunately too often are, of how to 
treat such a case. In half an hour the doctor had 
done all that was necessary, assisted by Mary, 
whose greatest pleasure from childhood had been 
to visit and comfort the sick poor attended by her 
father. Many a poor man said he owed more to 
Miss Mary’s nursing than to the doctor’s physic ; 
but old Doctor Manners only laughed when he heard 
it, and looked so pleased, that every one could see 
his daughter might safely be complimented at his 
expense. Soon poor Tom grew more patient as 
she helped to settle his rough bed. Mrs. Stokes 
had given up her own (it was the only one she had). 


22 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


for the doctor said he could not be mov^ed for some 
days without great danger. 

The poor lad seemed so grateful for Mary's kind- 
ness, and so anxious to have her near him, that she 
persuaded her father to leave her in the cottage, 
and to call for her on his return from visiting a pa- 
tient who lived at a considerable distance, and to 
whom he was just preparing to drive when sum- 
moned to the accident. Tom’s temporal necessi- 
ties were now disposed of for the present, and Mrs. 
Stokes, who was a very pious woman in her own 
way, began to think it was time to see to spirituals. 

I’m thinking. Miss Mary, that poor lad’s awful 
bad for the soul, leastaways he would n’t curse like 
that if it warn’t more worse nor a heathen. Ah, Miss 
Mary, if you’d a heard Mr. Spooner last Sunday, 
how powerful he spoke of the sinner’s end, the 
flames of hell, and the uncovenanted marcies ive the 
Almighty God, your blood would run cold ; and if 
that there boy could be roused to know his sins, 
Miss Mary, sure the burning of his body might 
be the saving of his soul. Now, Miss Mary, dear, 
what do you think, shall I send Jemmy for the min- 
ister?” 

Not while I am here, certainly, Mrs. Stokes,” 
replied Mary, kindly, but firmly ; we always at- 
tend our parish church on Sundays, and papa 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


23 


never approves of any one going to strange preach- 
ers ; besides, I am sure it would do the poor boy 
no good ; you may see, he is far too ill, and suffer- 
ing too much, even to attend to what we are say- 
ing ; how, then, could you expect he would listen 
to a stranger ?” 

“ Then, maybe ye’d like Jem to step over for 
the parson. I don’t mean the lord up at the great 
house, but they said as there was a new one come 
to Stoke Damerel Parish, but there the folks is all 
afraid to speak to him, he looks so scared, I 
heer’d Mrs. Summers say 

But what Mrs. Summers said remained untold, 
for most unexpectedly the subject of conversation 
appeared at the door, in the shape of a tall, thin, 
grave, and, if the truth must be told, rather fright- 
ened looking parson. An awkward silence fol- 
lowed his arrival. It is not pleasant even for a 
friend to enter your apartment when you have 
been discussing him in the most charitable man- 
ner ; but for a stranger to make his appearance, 
when you have just been speaking doubtfully of 
him, is rather mal a propos. Mr. Helmore looked 
painfully distressed. Part of the information con- 
veyed by Mrs. Stokes was perfectly true. He had 
but lately arrived at Stoke Damerel, and he was very 
shy. For years he had been a fellow of Col- 


24 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


lege, Cambridge, and there he had lived contented 
and happy, surrounded by college friends and col- 
lege comforts, without a thought beyond his few 
duties and his literary pursuits. The living of 
Stoke Damerel was in the gift of his college, and 
it had fallen to his lot. Many a man who lived on 
the hope of such a provision envied his good for- 
tune, but Mr. Helmore was happily as unconscious 
of their envy as of their views of domestic bliss. 
He had no wish for matrimony ; the idea had 
never crossed his mind. As long as he lived in 
college, a wife would have been simply in his way, 
and he never suffered any of those domestic incon- 
veniences which sometimes suggest the necessity 
of female superintendence. Mr. Helmore was not 
only not a marrying man, but he was positively 
averse to female society, from a vague idea that 
the weaker sex not . merely required, but ought to 
receive a certain amount of polite attention from 
the lords of creation, the nature and extent of 
which was a calculation entirely beyond his mental 
powers. 

Such being Mr. Helmore’s feelings regarding 
women in general, our readers will scarcely be 
surprised to hear that he felt himself de trop ; and 
mentally, but most politely, wished that the young 
lady before him was at that moment located in the 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 


25 


tropics, or any other comfortable and distant re- 
gion, and he himself an inhabitant pro tern, of the 
moon, always provided that the legend in Hiawa- 
tha was not true, and that the man in the moon 
did not prove, after all, to be a woman : 

“ Saw the moon rise from the water, 

Saw the flecks and shadows in it, 

Whispered, ‘What is that, Nokomis?^ 

And the good Nokomis answered : 

‘ Once a warrior very angry, 

Seized his grandmother, and threw her 
Up into the sky, at midnight. 

Right against the moon he threw her, 

"Tis her body that you see there.’ ” 

A groan and a curse from Tom Wilson wonder- 
fully relieved the state of affairs. Poor Mr. Hel- 
more looked exceedingly horrified. He had mixed 
very little in society of any description, and though 
he believed, and, indeed, had heard that some of 
the young men in college were ver}" ‘Hast,” and 
did “ dreadful things,” still, wickedness in its 
grosser forms was an abstract idea to him, and a 
further knowledge nearly as much dreaded as a 
tea-party of old maids, or a picnic of single ladies. 

Mary was the first to break silence ; she saw at 
once that Mr. Helmore was shy, and acting almost 
unconsciously on her natural kind-heartedness, she 
determined to set him at ease as far as she could. 
“ The poor boy is suffering sadly, Mr. Helmore, 


2 


26 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


and I fear he will scarcely bear his pain very pa- 
tiently/' 

Perhaps I had better speak to him ?" enquired 
the young rector, looking hopelessly, and it must 
be confessed, rather confidingly at Mary. 

It was the first attempt at administering his spir- 
itual functions; he felt painfully perplexed how to 
act, and hoped Mary would avert the threatened 
evil, by advising him not to speak at all, but he was 
doomed to disappointment. 

Will you take my place?" she replied, offering 
a chair beside the sick boy. 

Will I read to him, or — " Mr. Helmore paus- 
ed ; Mary was his sheet-anchor to-day. 

I scarcely think he could bear it, or even un- 
derstand it, but if you will ask him a question, you 
can see better what he will wish. My father will 
soon be here, and then perhaps — " but Mary hesi- 
tated now ; she was going to say, perhaps he can 
advise you better," but she stopped, scarcely know- 
ing why. 

I will try if he knows his Catechism." 

It was a bright idea ; at least, Mr. Helmore 
thought so. He knew nothing of boys except that 
they were very noisy and very troublesome in the 
streets ; and that they were, or ought to be, taught 
their Catechism and confirmed, and sent to church 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


27 


on Sundays ; and if that process did not make them 
grow up less noisy and more polite, what would ? 
So Mr. Helmore begun the Catechism. The Doc- 
tor's remedies had relieved the boy a little, and 
though the rector’s face was not an attractive one 
for young people generally, Tom looked as if he 
would like a little conversation. Adversity had 
taught the poor lad many a hard lesson, and he 
was fully aware that his illness might be a long 
one, and that he had no means of support while it 
lasted. He had lived long enough in the neigh- 
borhood to know that the good Doctor’s charity 
was larger than his purse, and he had heard the 
very evening before his accident of the arrival of 
the new rector, and that he gave money away in 
handfuls to every one who chose to plead poverty. 

Mr. Helmore sat down, and began solemnly : 

What is your name?” 

Tom Rice, sir,” replied the boy as cheerfully as 
his pain would permit. 

Who gave you this name ?” 

Suppose ’twas father or mother, sir ; never 
called me nothing else, sir, only Tom, since I was 
born, sir, unless when father was drunk, and then 
he called awful evil names.” 

Mr. Helmore looked aghast. The boy evidently 
did not know his Catechism ; perhaps he had never 


28 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


even heard of such a thing. He thought he would 
try one more question at all events. 

What did your godfathers and godmothers 
then for you T' 

Beat me, sir ; they were n’t good, sir, neither 
father nor mother, or Fd never have leaved 
them.” 

Mr. Helmore’s perplexities were by no means 
diminished ; but he had begun, and he was deter- 
mined to persevere. Evidently Tom Rice had not 
learnt the Catechism of the established church, and 
Mr. Helmore was obliged to catechize on his own 
account. 

Do you know how many gods there are?” he 
continued, without taking any notice of the last 
reply. 

Believe there’s one, sir, up in London ; can’t 
say as I ever heard much of him, though ; but per- 
haps there’s more here.” 

Mary had vainly tried to keep her countenance, 
but she could no longer restrain her risibility, and a 
low, ringing peal of the very merriest and most un- 
musical laughter astonished the rector even more 
than poor Tom’s ignorance. Mary attempted an 
apology ; poor Mr. Helmore looked exceedingly 
perplexed, and at last caught the contagion of her 
mirth and laughed himself. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


29 

What does your mother do to get her living?’* 
inquired Mary, when she had recovered a little. 

“ Lives by odds and ends, and sells turnip-tops 
and oranges when she can get them.” 

‘‘And what does your father do ?” 

“ Plagues mother, ma’am, and beats me when he’s 
tired beating her.” 

Tom’s antecedents evidently were not promis- 
ing ; the only wonder was how he escaped the 
streets of London and the attractions of an idle 
life, and why he had chosen hard work and the 
dullness of a country village. 

Mrs. Stokes’ cottage was not in Mr. Helmore’s 
parish, and when that gentleman entered it, he 
had merely come to inquire for the boy who had 
been so seriously hurt, and whose temporary resi- 
dence was in Stoke Damerel. Had good Mr. Hel- 
more foreseen the consequence of that act of char- 
ity — but we must not anticipate. 

When Dr. Manners returned for Mary, he was 
not a little surprised to find her quietly chatting 
with a perfect stranger ; and when the stranger 
proved to be Mr. Helmore, the awe and terror of 
the neighborhood for his supposed dislike to so- 
ciety in general, and ladies in particular, the good 
doctor could scarcely recover his equanimity suffi- 
ciently to introduce himself. A thunder-storm, 


30 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


which had long been murmuring in the distance, 
now came rapidly nearer, and the doctor’s horse 
manifested a strong objection to remain where it 
was ; consequently, after a brief look at Tom, 
hurried directions to Mrs. Stokes, and a promise 
to call early next morning^ the doctor, Mary, and 
Mr. Helmore drove off, not however until the 
latter had put a half-crown into Tom’s burnt hand, 
and given another to Mrs. Stokes, with a promise 
to defray every expense until the poor lad was able 
to work again. 

The doctor’s house was a detached one, close to 
the little village of Saytonmere. A few minutes’ 
drive brought them to his door, and Mr. Helmore 
had scarcely time to recover his surprise at having 
accepted the invitation, when he found himself 
seated at dinner. 

That day twelve-months there was a wedding in 
the parish church. Lord Rossmore did not offici- 
ate. He was in London with his lady, whose 
health had become so delicate that she found fre- 
quent change of air necessary, and seemed particu- 
larly to require medical attendance during the 
London season. Lord Rossmore did not like Lon- 
don, and Lady Rossmore did not like the countr}^ ; 
but old Barney Burke had settled his daughters’ 
fortunes on themselves, and the golden opinions 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


31 


which they had won before matrimony turned into 
golden chains after it; though, we believe, the 
wearers complained occasionally that they were 
heavier than would have been supposed from the 
nature of the material. 

Poor Lord Rossmore ! He was not a happy man, 
but he had chosen his cross, and he was obliged to 
bear it as best he might. His children were his 
only comfort, for his parochial duties were only a 
disagreeable addition to his domestic cares. Lady 
Rossmore hated those dirty children,” as she 
characterized the daily visitants to the small paro- 
chial school ; and if she was obliged, in common 
decency, to attend an annual school-feast, she took 
the utmost care to keep as far as possible from the 
objects of her aversion, with the remark that the 
“ poor ought to be kept in their places and taught 
to respect their superiors.” Certainly, if aversion 
and respect were synonymous terms. Lady Ross- 
more had succeeded to her heart’s content, for 
there was not a child in the parish that would not 
go half a mile round, even on the hottest day of 
summer, to avoid encountering her lad3"ship. 

Lord Rossmore was greatly distressed, but what 
could he do? With the best intentions, he had 
not himself either the suaviter in modo^' nor the 
for titer in ref which is so necessary to attract 


32 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


and to win the confidence of the poor ; the conse- 
quence was, that Mr. Spooner's conventicle filled 
rapidly ; the parish church emptied proportion- 
ally, and the reverend and noble clergyman be- 
came every day more reserved and cold in his 
manner, and more high and dry in his sermons. 
It was not so at Stoke Damerel. The church was 
well filled on Sundays, and the aisle crowded with 
children of all ages and sizes, while it was no un- 
common thing to see three or four small children 
in Mrs. Helmore’s pew, the combined influence of 
her gentle smile and a certain awe of the grave 
face above which gave out the Dearly beloved 
brethren " in most distinct and solemn tones, pro- 
ducing a calm for the time being not easily pro- 
curable in any other way. 



CHAPTER III. 


“ There is no flock, however watched and tended, 

But one dead lamb is there ! 

There is no fireside, howsoe’er defended, 

But has one vacant chair ! 

The air is full of farewells to the dying, 

And mournings for the dead ; 

The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, 

Will not be comforted !” — Longfellow. 

Y dear, I really must go to London. 
Rogers can take care of the children, 
I suppose, as she has always done, and 
as to Amy, I do not see what I can do for her by 
staying here ; a great deal of her illness is mere 
fancy ; if no one noticed her she would soon re- 
cover and forget that tiresome cough ; but my 
health seems of no consequence to any one, though 
I do think a mother’s life ought to be considered 
of some value to her children.” 

For once Lord Rossmore was roused. ‘^Ju- 
dith,” he replied, sternly, '^Amy is dying. Dr. 
Manners told me yesterday she would never see 
2* (33) 




34 


HORNE HURST RECTOR Y. 


midsummer, and you know it is seldom he gives a 
positive opinion ; remember little Ellen’s death, 
and how bitterly you reproached yourself for it.” 

But little Ellen’s death was a subject Lady Ross- 
more did not like to remember, much less to be 
reminded of under present circumstances, and the 
remark only added to her previous determination. 

'' I intend to go to London the day after to- 
morrow ; if your Lordship has an}^ commands, you 
can furnish me with them. I suppose I shall find 
Amy alive in a fortnight, when I purpose to re- 
turn, unless the doctors think my case requires a 
longer visit.” 

Lord Rossmore sighed, but made no reply ; he 
had already learned by painful experience the hope- 
lessness of endeavoring to alter his wife’s opinion, 
when inclination and duty clashed with each other, 
and he often purchased peace at the expense of 
conscience. There was a little grave in the church- 
yard that might have taught Lady Rossmore a 
lesson if she would have learnt it ; but it is strange 
how hard a selfish heart can become, and how it 
can steel itself against natural affection until it ap- 
pears insensible even to its coldness. 

Lady Rossmore had risen from the breakfast 
table as she concluded her unfeeling remark, and 
now entered the nursery — a place not often troubled 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


35 


by her presence ; and, alas ! that it must be said, her 
absence was seldom remarked or regretted. Mrs. 
Rogers was sitting beside Amy’s little bed, while 
the young nursery-maid was superintending the 
wardrobe of the other children, rather disarranged 
by a game of play which they had been enjoying 
since their early breakfast. 

A sudden hush followed Lady Rossmore’s en- 
trance ; a silence .that would have been painful and 
sad to a loving mother, but she did not appear to 
notice it. 

'' How is Amy to-day, Mrs. Rogers ?” she in- 
quired ; without, however, going near the child’s 
bed. 

Indeed, my lady, I fear the poor child is far 
from well ; her little hands are burning, her cough 
has gone on all night, and — ” 

But a sudden catastrophe prevented Mrs. Rog- 
ers from finishing her remarks, and Lad}^ Ross- 
more from seeing how pale and worn the good 
woman looked, for she had sat up night after night 
with the suffering child without complaining, and 
without even mentioning it, lest she should be pre- 
vented by her mistress, who always discouraged 
what she called whims in the children. 

The little ones in their anxiety to play quietly, 
while their mamma was in the nursery, had crowd- 


3 ^ 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


ed up into a corner, and were busy for want of 
better occupation, in decapitating a doll of Amy’s, 
when Henry, a boy of only two or three years old, 
in his eagerness to seize the treasure, lost his bal- 
ance, and tumbled over into a large bath full of 
water wherein the morning ablutions of the chil- 
dren were usually performed. The fright, and the 
sudden immersion in cold water, terrified the poor 
little fellow ; and for a time even nurse could not 
still his cries. Amy, who had started up when she 
heard the unusual commotion, soon saw the fate 
of her doll, and though she had not cared much 
for it, the weak fretfulness of illness, so hard for 
even older people to control, now had its way, and 
she began sobbing piteously. Lady Rossmore had 
not the least idea how to manage children, (for 
who can manage them unless they have more than 
a common share of love to bestow, and more than 
a common share of wisdom to direct its exercise ?) 
now began to scold every one ; the nurse-maid for 
allowing such an accident to happen to her chil- 
dren, as if nurse-maids could be ubiquitous, and as 
if accidents would not happen sometimes even if 
they were; Henry for falling into the bath, and 
Amy for being so foolish about such a trifle as a 
doll. Fortunately for the children, they loved 
nurse Rogers as dearly as if she had been their 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


37 


very own Mammy/' as the little ones loved to 
call her, and she soon set. matters right again. 
Henry cried himself to sleep, and Katie, who was 
nearly seven, like a loving little child as she was, 
brought her own new wax doll to Amy, and told 
her she should always have it to play with ; and 
when poor Amy, wearied with a fit of coughing, 
pushed her away, and said she didn’t want her doll, 
she would rather have her own nice Elbe, Katie 
bore the waywardness without a word, and only 
kissed Amy’s thin hands again and again, and told 
her the doctor would make Ellie well, he was so 
kind and so clever ; and Amy must get well, too, for 
they could not play without her; and so Amy 
kissed Katie, and nurse Rogers, who had got Hen- 
ry to sleep, came to her poor sick child, and kissed 
them both ; and love made peace, and soothed sor- 
row, as it has so often done, and will so often do 
again, until we come where sorrow is not heed- 
ed, and where love will never be withered or 
chilled by unkind or unloving men. 

Poor little Amy’s wings were already spread for 
flight, but Lady Rossmore found it convenient not 
to notice it too closely ; she wondered how children 
could be so absurd about such trifles as dolls, as if 
a child’s doll was not sometimes more important to 
it than mamma’s baby. Alas! for little children 


38 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


and their sorrows and joys, when their elders 
measure their feelings by their own, and estimate 
their trials, not by the sufferings they really bring, 
but by the relation they bear to what seems of far 
more importance. How many a soul sinks under 
the burden of life because it was not taught when a 
child how to bear sorrow ! It felt, and could not 
help feeling; and its superiors smiled or chided 
when they should have given sympathy and love, 
and so the poor child has a double grief to bear — 
the sorrow, whatever it may be, and the indifference 
and coldness,, which increases it tenfold. 

Yes, even children may be taught how sublime a 
thing it is — 

“ To suffer and be strong/' 


and this not by underrating trials, which to them 
are keen and real, whatever they may be to us ; but 
by showing them the value of suffering, by telling 
them of Him who bore it from the manger to the 
grave, and who will reward it eternally, if only for 
His love we patiently endure it, and in union with 
His merits humbly offer it. 

Lady Rossmore wondered that Amy should cry 
so much about a doll. We are afraid there are a 
great many Lady Rossmores in the world ; but if 
any one had attracted her attention to Katie’s loving 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


39 


little way of soothing her sick sister, Lady Ross- 
more would have wondered at that also ; for, as she 
never gave sympathy to others, she could scarcely 
understand how a loving word will soothe and 
cheer the sorrowful. 

The doctor came about noon, and, as Katie had 
predicted, took the deepest interest in Amy’s doll, 
and did his best to repair the cruel decapitation it 
had undergone. Lady Rossmore was still more 
astonished, and wondered how Katie, who was 
naturally shy, ever ventured to introduce the sub- 
ject, but nurse Rogers had helped her out, and Dr. 
Manners was a grandpapa these six or seven years, 
and already had some experience of fractured dolls, 
delapidated carts, and broken-legged horses, all of 
which were left at Saytonmere Rectory, until 
grandpapa had a spare hour, when he never refused 
to exercise his mechanical skill for the benefit of 
the young ones. 

The doctor’s serious manner, when he left the 
nursery, was not without its effect on Lady Ross- 
more; while with the children he was cheerful, as 
he always was with young people, and he was a 
special favorite at Horne-hursL Rectory — even Amy, 
when she heard his well-known step, would brighten 
up and stretch out her little arms for the kiss she 
always expected from the loving old man. 


40 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


‘‘And so you think Amy is worse to-day?’' in- 
quired Lady Rossmore, as she led the doctor to the 
library where her husband anxiously waited his 
return ; “ do you fear any immediate danger ?” 

“ It is impossible to say,” replied Dr. Manners ; 
“these cases are most treacherous and uncertain, 
especially with children. It would be doing you 
an injustice. Lady Rossmore,” he continued, with a 
kindness of manner scarcely noticed or appreciated, 
“ if I did not tell you my candid opinion that Amy 
will not recover, but how long she may be spared, 
or how soon removed from us, is a question beyond 
my skill. I do not, however, think she can last 
many weeks, if so long, and I have had some expe- 
rience in such cases.” 

The village church-yard would have told you 
that. Lady Rossmore, if you had ever cared to read 
the head-stones. “ Helen Manners, died June 9th, 
18 — , aged three years and a half.” “ Robert Man- 
ners, April i6th, 18 — , aged two years.” “ Isabel 
Manners, Aug. 7th, 18 — , aged five years.” “ Hubert 
Manners” — but, enough — the old doctor could 
have borne it all if there had not been one more 
grave there. It was hers who had given life to 
these gathered flowers. 

On a shady slope there was a small, simple monu- 
ment erected “To the memory of Mary, the beloved 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


41 


wife of Robert Manners, Esq., M.D., of Saytonmere, 
in the County of Devon, who died at the early age 
of thirty.’’ People read this inscription very often. 
There was a beautiful view from the spot, and 
strangers always came to see it, for Saytonmere is 
one of the many places in Devonshire celebrated for 
magnificent scenery ; but when they met the doc- 
tor going his rounds, or dining at the Squire’s, 
they wondered that his hair should be so gray, 
for they heard that he was still a comparatively 
young man, and the ladies were surprised he did 
not marry again, now that his daughter had left 
him, and was ‘‘settled in life.” 

God help their poor wits ! But there are people 
in the world who have got to learn that there is 
such a thing as a love that cannot forget — that there 
are such phenomena in existence as old memories, 
that cast a shade over the longest life — a shade 
that will never be withdrawn until we come to 
stand in that sunlight which casts no shadow. 

But, revenons a nos moutons^ not meaning any dis- 
respect to Lady Rossmore, whom we had left stand- 
ing on the stairs most uncourteously, much less to 
the dear gray-haired doctor. 

Lady Rossmore had her hand on the latch of the 
door when she paused a moment, looked undecided 
for another moment, and then spoke : 


42 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


I am going to London, Dr. Manners, on some 
business that really must be attended to, and I am 
afraid Lord Rossmore, if he hears there is any 
danger about Amy, will prevent — I mean will 
wish me to remain at home. So, unless you think 
yourself really obliged to speak positively, I would 
prefer your saying as little on the subject as possible. 
Besides, you know men are often unnecessarily 
anxious about these matters, and 1 should be sorry 
my husband '' (it was not often Lady Rossmore 
called him her husband — it was a great condescen- 
sion, but the doctor did not notice it) ‘‘ should 
have any unnecessary anxiety in my absence. Of 
course I could not think of leaving at such a time 
unless on the most urgent business.” 

The doctor bowed acquiescence, and while he 
determined to tell Lord Rossmore the truth, re- 
solved not to give alarm of immediate danger, as 
he could not, for several days, give a positive 
opinion on that subject ; besides, he was satisfied 
that even if Amy was in danger, her ladyship's 
presence would be no advantage to any of the in- 
mates of Horne-hurst Rectory. 

The following day Lady Rossmore was too much 
occupied with preparations for her journey to 
concern herself much about her sick child ; and on 
Thursday morning, after a hurried visit to the nur- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


43 


sery, she departed. The children were accustomed 
to her absence, and did not seem to think it strange ; 
they did not know how ill Amy was ; and yet, 
with children’s usual instinct, they, too, felt it, for 
they played quiet plays,” and when they spoke 
to her their little voices sounded low and soft. It 
was a large, old-fashioned house, and the rooms 
chosen for a day and night nursery opened into 
each other ; at night the doors were always left 
open, and Amy’s bed had been moved near the 
fire, which was kept up in the outer room, except 
in the very hot summer days. 

A week passed away ; Lady Rossmore wrote 
from London once, and enquired how Amy was ; 
she did not speak of returning yet. Doctor Pul- 
sation had seen her several times, she said, and 
had advised her to drive out frequently, and to go 
into cheerful society, as her nerves were very much 
out of order, and no doubt Dr. Pulsation was 
right. 




CHAPTER IV. 

Bless little children, then, oh, bless them as they play, 

For thou wert like them once, though in a time too long away ; 
They have their angels, who watch o’er them every while, 

And know if thou dost cause them sigh or smile.” 

HE children were getting their early din- 
ner at Saytonmere rectory. 

It was one of Mr. Helmore's peculi- 
arities that he could not bear an early dinner at 
any time, or under any circumstances. Mrs. Hel- 
more, too, had her peculiarities, and the most re- 
markable of them was, that the moment she dis- 
covered that Mr. Helmore wished any thing, that 
very moment she also discovered it was the best, 
most reasonable, and most convenient arrangement 
possible ; the consequence of this was, that Mrs. 
Helmore declared nothing could answer better 
than to give the children their dinner every day 
at one, and to have a second dinner at six for her- 
self and Mr. Helmore. Dr. Manners very often 
dropt in, and, when Lady Rossmore was from 

( 44 ) 



HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 45 

home, Lord Rossmore came also, but not nearly 
so often as kind Mrs. Helmore wished. 

The children had just been helped, when a 
knock was heard at the hall-door ; in a few mo- 
ments the parlor-maid returned to say that Lord 
Rossmore particularly wished to see her mistress at 
once, if it would not be very inconvenient to leave 
the children. 

Say I will come in one moment, Eliza — but 
stay, you can mind the children, and take care 
Minnie does not get too much sweets ; she is hardl}^ 
well yet ; good-bye, darlings, mamma will soon be 
back.'’ 

But there was an outcry, and a rush for kisses, 
and a regular baby riot, which disarranged Mrs. 
Helmore's dress and flushed her sweet face before 
she could escape from her little ones. 

I am really sorry to interrupt you, Mrs. Hel- 
more ; I fear I have taken you from the children's 
dinner ; I would have presumed on our intimacy 
and ventured to go at once to the dining-room, but 
the object of my visit makes it almost necessary I 
should see you alone." 

Nay, no apologies. Lord Rossmore ; we are too 
long friends for ceremony ; you are in some trouble, 
I can see ; tell me at once what I can do, and be 
assured " 


46 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


Mrs. Helmore, I know all you would say. It 
was your father desired me to come, or I would 
never have ventured to ask what I am about to 
propose. Amy is dying, my wife is from home. 
Dr. Manners says she ought to have some one of 
experience near her who could take Mrs. Rogers' 
place when she is obliged to rest, and we think you 
would " 

‘‘ Yes, certainly, I will go back with you at once, 
but " 

Mrs. Helmore paused ; it was a perplexing case. 
How could she leave her own children, and Mr. 
Helmore, who could not bear her to be from home, 
even for a few hours ; then, if Lady Rossmore did 
return, what would she say if she found a com- 
parative stranger, (for the two ladies seldom met,) 
taking her place by the bedside of her dying 
child. 

Lord Rossmore saw her hesitation and almost 
divined its cause. 

‘‘ I am asking too much," he said, mournfully ; 

you also have children and a husband." 

There was a depth of sadness in the tone of his 
voice that went straight to Mrs. Helmore's warm, 
motherly heart. 

Oh, do not say that !” she exclaimed, extending 
her hand affectionately to the poor father ; I am 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


47 


only thinking how to manage best for all. You 
know,’’ she continued, and there was a shade of 
sadness in her voice now, but she knew it must be 
said ; you know Lady Rossmore might return, 
and perhaps she would not like to find me — I mean 
she might feel it if she saw another taking her place 
near her child. Do you think it would be possible 
to move Amy — is she in such immediate danger — 
if we could bring her here for change of air?” and 
she laid an emphasis on the last words ; that 
would remove all difficulties.” 

Lord Rossmore saw in a moment that this was 
the best, and almost the only course that could be 
taken. 

Amy is sitting up to-day ; she seems sometimes 
so much better I can scarcely believe there is such 
immediate danger. But I will go at once to your 
father, and we can be guided by his advice. I can 
see he is seldom mistaken in these cases.” 

Mrs. Helmore thought of the little graves in Say- 
tonmere church-yard, and of the white monument 
on the southern slope. She went to the door with 
Lord Rossmore. A servant was holding his horse. 
Lady Rossmore charitably allowed him that con- 
venience, as she required the carriage for her own 
use. She was much too delicate to walk anywhere, 
even to church on Sundays. 


48 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


After Lord Rossmore had said farewell, he 
turned back: 

But Mr. Helmore — what will he sa}^?’' 

Mrs. Helmore had thought of that; she knew 
very well what he would say. Her Auld Robin 
Gray'’ had been a ‘‘gude man" to her, but then she 
had been a wise, patient, loving little wife. It had 
not been a love match. Mr. Helmore was not 
capable of falling in love with anybody, but he was 
capable of loving his wife, and he did it, and very 
miserable the same gentleman would .have been 
without a wife, and without one that could value 
all the good that was in him, and bear with the 
peculiarities which grew like parasites on the out- 
side. 

From the eventful day on which Mary Manners 
and the Rev. Mr. Helmore had met in Mrs. Stokes' 
cottage, an intimacy had sprung up which ripened 
into a sincere attachment. 

Mr. Helmore saw at once that he could not un- 
derstand the people, nor their ways. Mary did, 
and at every fresh difficulty she was applied to. 
Then Mr. Helmore's menage was always in con- 
fusion. He did not understand servants, and they 
did not understand him. 

At last things came to a climax. Mr. Helmore 
found himself one day without any dinner, and 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


49 


when he went to the stable to look for his horse, 
that he might ride over to Horne-hurst village and 
consult Mary on his difficulties, he overheard Tom 
Wilson, (who was now in his house and who had 
learned his catechism,) assuring the gardener that 
nothing would go right in the house, or out of it, 
until the master got a missus,'' and he didn't 
know where he'd find one like Miss Mary. 

The gardener agreed with Tom. Mr. Helmore 
had already taken the same view of matters him- 
self, but hitherto had felt deficient in the amount 
of moral courage necessary for carrying the plan 
into execution. He turned back to the house, 
wrote a very polite and very matter-of-fact pro- 
posal to Miss Mary, and sent the missive to Horne- 
hurst by the careful hands of the aforesaid Tom, 
who was not without his own suspicions on the 
subject of the communication, for he knew the 
master 'id be drove to it at last." 

A very satisfactory reply soon made its appear- 
ance. Mr. Helmore had charged Tom not to re- 
turn without an answer, and to lose no time. And 
Tom had assured his master that he might ‘‘ depend 
on him." 

Poor Tom ! It was new life to him to be trusted, 
instead of being beaten, and kicked, and cursed. 
Tom was not ungrateful, and proved on more 
3 


so 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


occasions than the present, that he could be de- 
pended on. 

Mr. Helmore was so astonished at the events of 
the evening that he forgot he had not dined, and 
would have gone to bed supperless, had not the cook 
recovered from her fit of ill-humor, made friends 
with the house-maid, and sent the master in a sub- 
stantial tea. 

From that day, (it was the first of July,) until his 
marriage, which took place early in September, Mr. 
Helmore always dined with Dr. Mahners, and gave 
his servants board-wages. 

We have said it was not a love match. Perhaps 
some of our lady readers will be indignant with 
Mary for marrying at all under the circumstances. 
If they will have the kindness to let us know how 
many real “ love matches'' take place in, we will 
say, fifty years, and how many of these turn out 
happily, we will then do our utmost to defend Mary 
Manners. 

Yes, Mrs. Helmore knew very well what her 
husband would say. She knew if she went to his 
study and told him quietly that she thought it 
would be better to send away all the servants, to 
turn the house upside-down or inside-out, to make 
a farm-yard of the garden, or plant potatoes in the 
roser}", that he would only look up for a minute. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


51 


perhaps with a little surprise, and then say : ‘‘ Very 
well, my dear, I am sure you know best.” Perhaps 
he might add a faint hope that dinner would be at 
six, and that no one would disturb his books ; but 
probably he would not even say so much, for he 
knew, by long experience, how carefully, how 
anxiously, his little wife watched and guarded his 
every wish. 

But Mr. Helmore said more than his wife ex- 
pected when she went to him. He had long seen 
there was not much domestic happiness at Horne- 
hurst Rectory, though he was not one to remark 
it to others. At once he agreed that all which 
could be done for little Amy must be done. He 
would even sacrifice his home comforts, were it 
necessary, and proposed to follow Lord Rossmore 
and tell him so. But Mrs. Helmore said he would 
be back in an hour at furthest, and then they could 
settle what would be best, and most convenient for 
all parties ; and you know we must think about 
Lady Rossmore also.” 

Mrs. Helmore thought her husband said, Hang 
the woman.” Certainly he made an exclamation 
very like it, but as she had never before heard him 
utter such an expression or anything even approxi- 
mating thereto, perhaps she was wrong. 

The children’s dinner had not concluded as 


52 


HORNE HURST RECTOR Y, 


peaceably as it began. Master Willie had cried 
for more pudding than Eliza thought his mamma 
would have given him ; and, when he was refused, 
he had worked himself up into a toAvering passion. 
When Mrs. Helmore returned, he Avas sitting on 
the floor kicking the unoffending boards most 
lustily, after having pulled the cloth off the table 
and upset eA^erything on it. The poor girl was 
vainly trying to pacify him, and, at the same time, 
to gather up the broken dishes and set matters to 
rights before her mistress came back. It Avas not 
a pleasant sight for the young mother, already 
pained and anxious about little Amy’s visit. Most 
persons Avould haA^e given way to their excitement, 
and relieved it either by scolding the servant for what 
she could not have prevented, or by severely punish- 
ing the child. But Mrs. Helmore was a mother 
(would to God there were more like her!) who had 
studied her children’s characters, and who acted on 
a regular systematic plan with each according to 
their respective disposition. From a baby, Willie 
had shown this extreme violence of temper, with 
a nervous excitability that threatened to under- 
mine a constitution always delicate. 

Many parents would have indulged him in every 
caprice sooner than see the painful effects of his 
Auolence ; while not a few would have punished 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


53 


severely, and thus only brought fuel to the flame, 
by adding bitter, and, perhaps, vindictive feelings 
to a temperament already but too much excited. 
Who may tell, who can ever know, the evil that 
may be caused in time and in eternit)^ when par- 
^ ents punish, not in the calmness of holy love, but to 
gratify their own passions, roused by the resistance 
of a child or an inferior ? 

Mrs. Helmore looked greatly distressed, but she 
did not speak to the child ; the other little ones 
were frightened ; it was not usual to see tnamma so 
grave. * Eliza explained in a low voice what had 
happened, and then Gerty — dear little Gerty — stole 
up to Willie and begged him to say he was sorry, 
and that he would be a good boy if mamma would 
forgive him. But Willie was now in a state of 
nervous excitement almost past a child's power to 
control, and he pushed Gertrude away, and scream- 
ed and sobbed until poor Mrs. Helmore’s face grew 
pale with fear. Most persons would have thought 
the child was still in a violent passion, but his 
^mother had watched her little ones too closely to 
be easily misled. 

She knew he was excited from the violence to 
which he had so sinfully given way, and she knew 
that what now occurred was but the reaction of a 
mind already overstrained, combined with exces- 


54 


HORNE HURST RECTOR F. 


sive fear of the punishment which he richly de- 
served. But Willie was not old enough to know 
his mother yet. She was not one to punish, while 
physical or mental excitement would only add to 
its terrors, without producing any lasting effect ; 
and, child as he was, he felt both surprised and re- 
lieved when his mother asked Eliza to carry him 
to the nursery and put him to bed ; adding, with a 
delicacy of feeling which at once reproved her 
child and attached her servant still more to one 
who had already shown herself rather a friend than 
a mistress — If you can forgive Master Willie for 
my sake.'' 

The little fellow soon sobbed himself to sleep. 
Like most passionate children, he had a deeply 
loving heart ; and he could not rest until he had 
told Eliza he was very sorry, and put his tiny 
arms round her .neck for a kiss. And Eliza loved 
Willie dearly, for he was a generous - hearted af- 
fectionate boy ; so they soon made friends. 

When Lord Rossmore returned, he found Mr. 
Helmore walking up and down before the house. 
His books had been put away ; how could he read 
at such a time ? Mrs. Elelmore sat in the bow win- 
dow of the.morning-room, which looked out on the 
shrubbery and commanded a view of the approach 
to the hall door. She had some work in her hand. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


55 


but she did not make much progress with it. 
Her thoughts wandered from the dying Amy to 
the wayward, passionate Willie, and then she 
thought of little voices which she had heard long, 
long ago ; sweet and low they were, like the 
chimes on a Christmas night that are breeze-borne 
from some distant spire, and one voice mingled 
whose tone was deeper, but not less musical, than 
theirs. She had heard its last utterance ; she had 
treasured its last words : Mary, my precious 

child, take care of poor papa and then there 
was a long and terrible silence. Was the voice 
hushed forever? Almost! There were but faint 
murmurs, that seemed like theirs who plead for 
mercy ; who ask rather in fear than in love to be 
saved some awful doom ; and then — then, there 
was one low, low sigh, and Mary bent closer ; she 
thought she heard her own name uttered once 
more, and that papa’s came after it. Perhaps it was 
fancy ; but stern reality followed close on the foot- 
steps of hope ; the voice was hushed forever, and 
Mary might go and comfort, as best she could, that 
broken-hearted man who had neither spoken nor 
moved since he had known that his flower ol 
flowers, so long, so tremblingly cherished, would 
bloom no more on earth for him. 

Mrs. Helmore looked very pale and very sad 


HORNE^HURST RECTORY. 


S6 

when Lord Rossmore and her husband came in. 
Mr. Helmore could not quite understand it. He 
was very, very anxious himself about Amy, and 
had shown an interest in the whole affair far be- 
yond what was usual with him. He knew noth- 
ing about Willie, for his wife seldom told him of 
these little domestic trials. 

Lord Rossmore was surprised and gratified. He 
had a very deep regard for Mary, and valued her 
sympathy, as well he might ; but when he express- 
ed some regret that she should distress herself so 
much about his trials, her heart reproached her. 
She felt it was not all for him, and yet she could 
not say so. 

Is it not well for the selfishness of our fallen 
nature, that the sorrows of others often wake the 
remembrance of our own, and so produce a sym- 
pathy and tenderness which alleviates many a trial, 
and lightens many a burden, to which we would 
scarcely have given a passing thought, were we 
not thus softened and subdued ? Alas ! that we 
cannot grieve with those that grieve purely from 
love, and a desire to be like Him who tasted every 
chalice of human woe that He might minister con- 
solation and support to every form of human suf- 
fering. 

Your father thinks Amy had better be removed 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


57 


here/' said Lord Rossmore, after a moment's 
pause but, as it is late in the day now, we, 
must wait until to-morrow. I have sent a mes- 
senger to E , with orders to have a close car- 

riage sent here about noon. You see," he con- 
tinued, turning towards Mr. Helmore, with an 
effort to smile, I am taking strange liberties 
with your house. You had better take care how 
you encourage me ; I may prove too intimate a 
friend." 

Rossmore ! No more of this!" exclaimed Mr. 
Helmore, with an energy that almost startled his 
wife ; ‘‘ we are friends, and while life is spared to 
us, adversity should only bind the tie closer. I 
never consider a man my friend until he proves 
himself so, by showing, as you, my lord, have 
done, that he can and will trust me, and will even 
put me to what he may call inconvenience on his 
account." 

From that day Lord Rossmore and his brother 
clergyman were bound to each other by ties of no 
common attachment. 

Will you stay with us to-day?" inquired Mrs. 
Helmore, as her guest rose to leave ; ‘‘ it is nearly 
six now." 

‘‘ Thank you, not to-day." 

Tom Wilson had walked his horse up and down 
3 * 


58 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


the avenue for a long time, and now approached. 
He was a good lad, and trouble had taught him to 
feel for others. 

hope Miss Amy is better, my lord,’' he said 
respectfully, and with a kindness that showed it 
was not mere curiosity or politeness that suggested 
the inquiry. 

Poor Lord Rossmore ! he could not answer ; but 
he looked at Tom a moment so gratefully that it 
was more to the lad than if he had given him a 
crown piece. Tom ran on to open the lodge gate 
for him, and Lord Rossmore looked at him again 
so kindly, and yet so sadly, that he could scarcely 
keep back his tears. Muttering something to him- 
self about being a fool, and always talking when 
he ought to hold his tongue, he turned back slowly 
towards the house; then suddenly remembering 
that the knives had not been cleaned since the chil- 
dren’s dinner, and that the parlor-maid was prob- 
ably wanting them at that very moment, he ran on 
as fast as his very active limbs could carry him, 
and, in his hurry, nearly overset his master who 
was walking again outside the house, and who 
wondered, as Tom apologized for his awkwardness, 
what extraordinary circumstance could have oc- 
curred to put him in this unusual state of commo- 
tion. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


59 


Poor Tom ! he was not a fool, though he blamed 
himself more than once that evening for having 
''spoken to that poor gentleman in his trouble/' 
Tom did not know that tears- do people good some- 
times, and that kind words, even from a domestic, 
though they may appear to increase a sorrow, or 
even to awaken it, are often no little comfort to an 
overburdened heart. 

It was late in the evening before Mrs. Helmore 
could visit the nursery ; her husband did not seem 
anxious to return to his study, and for once he re- 
mained longer than she wished, talking of Amy 
and Lady Rossmore, and appearing more inquisi- 
tive about her ladyship's antecedents than his wife 
could have supposed possible. At last it occurred 
to him that the evening was darkening in very 
rapidly, and he rose, rang for lights, and in a few 
minutes was absorbed in his new geological theory, 
intended to reconcile the letter of Scripture with 
the discoveries of modern science. 

Willie was awake now, and wondering would 
his mamma come to him, and would she be very 
angry with him if she did. Mrs. Helmore was 
not very angry, she never was, but the little boy 
soon saw she was very, very much displeased, and 
was not at all surprised when he found he would 
be severely punished. He bore it more quietly 


6o 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


than his mother had anticipated. Children have a 
keen sense of the claims of justice, and if punish- 
ment be not inflicted in anger, or at a moment 
when the excitability, of passion has for a time as- 
sumed the place of reason, and clouded their sense 
of right and wrong, they will generally acknowl- 
edge, at least, mentally, that they deserve correc- 
tion ; and in after years there will be no unkind 
remembrances, no bitter thoughts against the par- 
ent. 



CHAPTER V. 

Peace ! peace ! the little bosom 
Labours with shortening breath ; 

Peace ! peace ! that tremulous sigh 

Speaks his departure nigh — 

Those are the damps of death. 

Lord Rossmore reached his house 
he found the nurse-maid anxiously watch- 
ing his return. Miss Amy was much 
worse, she said, and Mrs. Rogers had desired her 
to wait at the hall door, and tell his lordship when 
he came in. 

“ What does nurse think I had better do T* he 
inquired, as he alighted from his horse. 

The poor girl did not know what to say, she had 
just been told that the child coiild hardly live 
through the night, and she did not like to tell the 
master this, he looked scared enough already.’' 

Her hesitation alarmed the poor father, and he 
asked in a voice that sounded almost stern, Speak, 
girl, is my child living ?” 


(6i) 


I 


62 HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 

She burst into tears, ‘‘ Oh, my lord. Miss Amy 
is alive, but — 

Lord Rossmore did not wait for more ; a mo- 
ment found him in the nursery. He had opened 
the door so gently, that no one heard him enter. 
Mrs. Rogers was sitting in a large chair near the 
fire, and Amy was lying in her arms ; there was a 
burning flush upon her little face, and her long 
fair curls hung down damply over nurse’s shoulder. 

But why does n’t Mamma come, nurse ; will 
she never come back again ? I would like to see 
her ; and papa, he will not go, too, will he, nurse ? 
Poor papa !” 

Poor Papa! God help him! He has heard it 
all, and he has seen a look in little Katie’s eyes 
that he never forgot to his dying hour. Mrs. 
Rogers had got all the other children to bed, but 
Katie would not go; she would not leave Amy; she 
knew her little sister was dying, though she was 
not told so by any one ; and worse still, she knew 
her mother was from home, and that she did not 
care for the dying child. Papa will come, Amy,” 
she said, fondling her little sister ; “ he will never 
leave us.” 

The words were almost worse than the look. 
Would Katie ever forget the wrong her mother 
had done ? 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


63 


Lord Rossmore made a slight movement to at- 
tract nurse’s attention without disturbing Amy. 
But Katie was the first to notice it, and she sprung 
into his arms, and then sobbed as if her very heart 
would break ; and yet, even in her grief, there was 
a self-control far beyond her years ; her sobs were 
stifled, lest they should reach the ears of the dying 
one. In a moment she had pushed back the masses 
of dark hair which almost covered her face, and 
still clinging convulsively to her father, drew him 
forward to the sick child. 

Amy, darling, here is papa ; our own papa !” 

The sorrows of a life-time were concentrated in 
the words. Passionate affection for one parent, 
and something worse than bitterness towards the 
other. 

Amy held out her little hands. 

Papa, papa, please take me !” 

An hour passed away. Amy lay quite still in 
her father’s arms. Nurse Rogers had made up the 
fire very quietly, and lit a night-lamp, but no one 
heard her or noticed her. Katie had never moved. 
She was sitting on a little stool at her father’s feet, 
and her head was pressed against his knee. 

At last Amy spoke. Papa, I feel so — so strange. 
Where is mamma? where is Katie ? where is nurse ? 
I won’t ! I won’t ! ” and she started up and looked 


64 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


round wildly. “There are ugly bad men coming 
in at that door, and white men at that door,” and 
then she screamed wildly, and clung to her father 
in a very panic of fear. 

“ Amy, darling, think of Jesus ; Jesus, who loves 
little children. He will not let the bad men hurt 
you.” It was all the poor father could say, but it 
seemed to soothe the child. 

“Jesus! Jesus! Who is Jesus? I never saw him, 
papa. Is he kind ? Is he like you, papa ?” 

Poor Amy ! it was but too true she knew very 
little of Jesus. There was no picture in the nur- 
sery, of the Good Shepherd feeding His lambs, no 
crucifix to tell how the Good Shepherd had given 
His life for His sheep. 

“ Who is Jesus, papa?” she said again ; and then 
Lord Rossmore told her that Jesus was God ; the 
God who had made her, and Katie, and nurse 
Rogers, and every one ; and that He had died on 
the cross for her to save her from hell. Yes, Amy 
had heard it before, but she had thought very little 
of it ; only now every thing was changed, though she 
could not tell why, and it all seemed new to her. 
Lady Rossmore had desired Mrs. Rogers to read 
the Bible to the children on Sundays, and when 
they were old enough, that is, when they could be 
kept quiet with sugar-plums, they were taken to 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


65 

church to listen to the prayers and the sermon ; 
but they were not taught any form of prayer or 
catechism, for Lady Rossmore did not approve of 
those things, and thought that even the Lord’s 
Prayer ought not to be said more than once a day, 
if so often, as it was a mere form of words.” 

Papa, I would like to see a picture of Jesus,” 
said Amy, after a little. He must be very kind.” 

Lord Rossmore was obliged to tell her there was 
no picture of Jesus in the house. He was God, so 
it would be wrong to make one. But Amy could 
not understand this ; there were pictures of mamma 
and papa and Katie, and why was there no picture 
of Jesus? 

Poor Amy ! Nurse Rogers said her mind was 
wandering strangely that night, and tried hard to 
get her off her wild fancies. 

She won’t last long,” she whispered in answer 
to an inquiry from Lord Rossmore ; they never 
do when their minds go meandering that fashion.” 

Nurse Rogers was right. 

It was midnight and Amy seemed to sleep 
heavily ; now and then she started and coughed a 
little, but her cough was weaker, and appeared 
not to give her much pain. 

The old clock on the stairs struck one. Katie 
had fallen into a sound sleep, and nurse Rogers 


66 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


lifted her up very gently and laid her on her own 
bed, covering her over without awaking her. 

Again Amy started. Papa, the white men are 
come back, and the bad men are all gone. Did 
Jesus send them away?'' 

Lord Rossmore could hardly answer her. 

‘‘Yes, darling. Jesus sent away the bad men, 
because he loves Amy, and wants to make her 
happy. Will Amy go with Jesus and the good 
men ?" 

“Yes, papa, Amy will go." She stretched out 
her little hands as she spoke, and tried to raise her- 
self in his arms. 

It was too much for her dying strength ; the 
cough came back again and there were red spots 
on her white flannel dress. She looked up into 
her father's face ; it was not the look of a child, it 
was the look of a woman of thirty. “ Good bye, 
papa ; dear, dear papa !" 

Lord Rossmore could bear it no longer ; he 
burst into an agony of tears. “ Oh Amy ! my child ! 
my precious one ! for God's sake do not leave me !" 
But Amy had left him, and there was nothing now 
in his arms but a little form of clay. 

Nurse Rogers took the dead body gently from 
him, and laid it on the pretty cot where it had so 
often slept and suffered. She closed the little eyes 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


67 

and mouth, and smoothed down the fair uncurled 
hair. It was all she could do. Lord Rossmore 
knelt by the bed-side, and buried his face in his 
hands. He looked back into the past ; he looked 
forward into the future ; and all seemed one dark 
cloud of sorrow\ Amy was gone — his summer child ; 
true, he had Katie still, and, of the two, she always 
seemed the dearest ; but who is there that has not 
felt they knew not the value of a flower until it 
had faded forever? Amy was gone — he hoped she 
was safe and happy somewhere, but withal it was a 
cold and comfortless thought ; too vague, too in- 
definite to bring peace. The communion of saints 
was an abstract idea ; and abstract ideas are poor 
comfort when heavy sorrows are crushing down 
the heart, and asking for present and tangible con- 
solation. He could only think of Amy’s death as 
a separation ; what a consolation would it have 
been if his creed was a reality ! if he had believed 
that she was with God in her pure baptismal inno- 
cence, and that she might succor him and help 
him, as she could not have done on earth ! 

Mrs. Rogers did not like to disturb him — his 
grief seemed as if it could not bear words ; at last 
she spoke, and begged his lordship would go to 
bed, if only for Miss Katie’s sake ; for if he was ill 
in the morning, and not able to see her, she would 


68 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


not answer for the consequences after all the poor 
child had suffered/' 

Lord Rossmore knew that nurse was right ; and 
as she lit a candle, and handed it to him with an 
almost motherly kindness, he felt, more than he 
had ever felt before, what a comfort it is to have 
domestics who are more friends than servants. 
The poor woman was looking very ill herself, but 
she seemed only to think of others ; she was used 
to trouble," she said next day, to the nursemaid ; 
‘‘ but it seemed new to the poor master, God help 
him !" 

Katie awoke from a heavy sleep about five next 
morning ; it was quite light and she could see 
everything in the nursery clearly. The kind old 
nurse had fallen asleep in the large arm-chair near 
the fire-place ; the children were all asleep, too, in 
the night nursery. Amy's bed was the only one in 
the other room, and as Katie raised herself up, and 
pushed the clothes off her, she could see her little 
sister quite plainly. She rose softly and stole over 
to her. Was she asleep, too? Why did she look 
so cold and strangely white? and why did not 
nurse, who was always so careful, put some warm 
blankets over her ? Poor nurse ! I suppose she 
and papa were very tired of watching Amy, and 
so they went to sleep ; but they might have told 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 69 

me, and I would have minded her/' Still Katie 
had her misgivings as she looked again at Amy’s 
face after her soliloquy ; but she had never seen 
death, and who can wonder that she did not real- 
ize it? She went back softly to where she had 
slept, and brought a blanket to put over her little^ 
sister. Ah, dear little Katie ! Amy does not want 
blankets now, or fires, or summer .sunshine. As she 
lifted it, and tried to lay it down very quietly, 
that ‘‘ Tiny” might not wake, her hand touched 
something. She thought for a moment it was 
ice, but it seemed colder than ice ; she started. 
Amy’s hands were crossed on her breast, and 
Katie saw they looked very white and stiff ; would 
she just lay her own on them and warm them ? 
that would not disturb Amy. Ah, Katie ! dear lit- 
tle Katie ! you know it all now ; you have touched 
death, and you will often touch it again ; but it will 
never seem so cold ! 

The blanket was on Amy’s feet, but Katie did 
not try to draw it up over her now, as she intend- 
ed ; she did not cry, but sat down on a low sea 
by the cot. In spite of all her carefulness, she 
made a slight noise in moving it, which woke 
nurse. She started up, scarcely able to suppress a 
scream of terror when she saw where Katie was. 
But she was accustomed to the child’s thoughtful 


^0 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


ways, and a glance at her bed, from which the 
clothes had been pulled, with another glance at 
Amy's cot, showed what Katie's work had been. 

Have you been long up, darling ?” she inquired, 
in a low voice. 

“ Not long, nurse ; but where is poor papa?" 

Papa is gone to rest awhile ; and if Katie would 
be a good child and go to bed again, she would 
please poor papa very much, and then she could 
go and comfort him by and by." 

Poor Katie was very weary, and her little eyes 
were red and heavy with watching and sorrow ; 
so she let nurse undress her very quietly, and in 
a few minutes was in a sound sleep once more. 

Nurse was glad on all accounts when she saw 
her settled, for she had enough to do, poor soul ! 
before the master was up, and the other children 
awake. 

The lifeless form had to be removed gently 
to another room, and shrouded as best might be. 
It was late, and the sun shone out bright and clear 
before her task was finished. When she returned 
to the nursery, the nurse-maid was dressing some 
of the younger children ; she saw Amy’s cot was 
empty, and so she only asked nurse, softly, when 
it happened ?" Poor nurse ! she had borne up 
bravely till now, but Ellen’s question and the 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


n 


empty cot was too much for her. She fell back in 
the chair, where she had so often sat and soothed 
the little sufferer, and the long cry gave relief to 
her overwrought mind, if not to her overwearied 
body. 

A message was sent early to the Helmores to 
tell them that Amy was gone where a mother’s 
care would be neither missed nor needed ; but, un- 
fortunately, no one thought of countermanding the 

carriage from E , and it arrived punctually - 

at the time appointed. 

The Helmores had just driven up in their little 
pony chaise, and Tom Wilson, always thoughtful 
for others, managed to save Lord Rossmore the 
pain of dismissing the vehicle, by telling the driver 
what had happened, and getting him away almost 
before any one had time to notice the arrival. 

Lady Rossmore did not return until' after the 
funeral. It is only fair to say that her ladyship did 
not hear of Amy’s immediate danger until after her 
death. Lord Rossmore had written on the morn- 
ing of the day that he went to request Mrs. Hel- 
more to take charge of Amy, but his wife had left 
London and was en route for Horne-hurst. A new 
acquaintance, whom she had met at a “ religious ” 
party in Hyde Park Gardens, had invited her to 
spend a few days at E on her homeward jovir- 


72 


BORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


ney. The letter announcing Amy’s death found 
her there, and another which came by the ne:^t 
post from Mrs. Helmore, requested that she would 
delay her return, if possible, until after the fune- 
ral ; to which request her ladyship graciously ac- 
ceded, as she declared her nerves were much too 
delicate to bear the excitement immediately after 
the shock of her dear child’s very unexpected and 
sudden death. 





CHAPTER VI. 

“ When shall we learn to distinguish between giving away 
money that we scarcely miss, and practising that real charity in 
word and action, which costs us time, trouble and personal incon- 
venience ?’' 

HE funeral was over early in the after- 
noon. Mr. Helmore read the service, 
and people remarked that Dr. Manners 
seemed very much affected at it ; but then he was al- 
ways so fond of children, and particularly so of Amy. 
Katie insisted on being present ; she held her fath- 
er’s hand in hers all the time, but never spoke or 
cried. Mrs. Helmore thought she was a strange 
child, and scarcely liked her cold and almost con- 
temptuous manner. Thoughtful mother though 
she was, there were depths in the human heart be- 
yond her power to fathom ; but she could pity, and 
she could understand that a child might have feel- 
ings, and deep feelings, which should be carefully 
watched and carefully trained ; and not rudely 
questioned, or rudely crushed. 

4 



( 73 ) 


74 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


Lady Rossmore arrived a few days , after the 
funeral. She came rather early in the afternoon, 

having stopped for the night at D , which was 

only a few miles from Saytonmere. Katie had felt 
her sister’s death acutely, and clung more than 
ever to her father, whom she had always loved 
with a more than common tenderness ; and, now 
she had all the wealth of affection which she had 
lavished on her young sister, thrown back upon 
her little heart, where was the pent-up stream to 
pour itself forth ? The bitter feelings which had 
been roused by her mother’s neglect of Amy had 
almost passed away ; for it is seldom that a child 
mistrusts any one, much less a parent, for any 
length of time. Sorrow had softened and subdued 
her proud nature, and had deepened her natural 
tenderness. Would not her mother love those who 
were left still more, while she sorrowed for the one 
who was taken ? Katie did not actually reason 
thus with herself, but she felt, or at least expected, 
it would be so. Poor child ! she has yet stern les- 
sons to learn ; the harvest lime of love is not here. 

“ It here is tried and purified, 

But hath in Heaven its perfect rest.’^ 

Too young to reason, at least consciously, she act- 
ed on the impulse of affectionate feeling, and. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


75 


when Lady Rossmore came, threw herself into her 
arms with a flood of tears, and one long, loving 
embrace, such as loving children only can give, 
and loving mothers only should receive. 

Lady Rossmore had stretched herself on the 
sofa the moment she entered the drawing-room, 
and, almost without noticing Katie’s affectionate 
greeting, pushed her away, wondering Lord 
Rossmore had not more consideration for her feel- 
ings than to allow the children to come to her at 
such a time.” 

Katie did not speak, but left the room very quiet- 
ly. Two hours after, nurse Rogers found her in 
the church-yard lying on Amy’s grave ; she was 
not crying then, though her eyes gave plain token 
that the tears had not been long absent from them, 
but there was a fixed look of intense anguish in the 
child’s face that was worse to see, nurse said, ten 
times over than Miss Amy’s pale cheeks in her 
little coffin. Poor darling ! the suffering was over 
for her, but she feared Miss Katie’s was only be- 
gun.” 

When the child left the room. Lord Rossmore 
ventured some faint remonstrance, and apologized 
for Katie’s excitability, by mentioning what she 
had gone through on the night of Amy’s death, 
but he was stopped short by an indignant torrent 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


76 

of reproaches. It was just like him; he cared 
for no one but that child, and spoiled her com- 
pletely ; and as for his poor wife, if she did not 
take care of herself as a matter of duty to her 
young family, no one else would ; but a mother’s 
feelings were never considered or understood, and 
after all she had gone through, to think now, when 
she came home with her nerves a little restored, 
that even her husband should turn against her. It 
was too — too much, just after the death of her dar- 
ling child, whose precious life she was sure had been 
sacrificed to the old-fashioned notions of that foolish 
nurse, who knew nothing about children but how to 
spoil them and flatter them. If she had been at home, 
Amy would not be in the church-yard now; but Lord 
Rossmore would have been a widower in a few 
months, if she had not gone to London for advice 
at the very time she did. But perhaps he would 
not have cared much for that either ; he could con- 
sole himself with a young wife who would spend 
her money, and neglect her children — ” 

Lord Rossmore was naturally quiet, and would 
do anything for peace sake, but this language was * 
almost past endurance. Probably had he not been 
crushed down by the deep sorrow he felt at Amy’s 
death, an angry and indignant answer would have 
been given ; as it was, however, he made no reply. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


77 


but taking up a book which lay on the table, ap- 
peared very much absorbed in the contents. Lady 
Rossmore considered this an additional aggrava- 
tion ; anything would have pleased her better than 
a contemptuous silence, and she was beginning 
another tirade, if possible more provoking than 
the previous one, when a servant entered with a 
message for Lord Rossmore. 

Mrs. Stokes was very ill,'' she said, and wish- 
ed to see his lordship as soon as possible, as her 
mind was very uneasy, and Dr. Manners had just 
told her she might not live many hours." 

Our old friend Jemmy was waiting for an answer. 

Lady Rossmore’s anxieties now took a new di- 
rection, and before her husband had time to reply, 
she exclaimed : 

Jane, you may say Lord Rossmore cannot go ; 
it really is unreasonable of these people to send at 
such an hour ; (it was only three in the after- 
noon ;) I dare say she will live till to-morrow, and if 
she does not. Jemmy has been well taught at the 
village school, he can read a chapter in the Bible 
for her, and I do not see what more your master 
could do even if he went." 

True enough. Lady Rossmore ; and if your 
reverend and noble husband explained the said 
chapter. Jemmy could explain it, too, and who was 


78 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


to decide whether Jemmy's explanation or the par- 
son's was the more correct, seeing that neither 
Jemmy nor the parson could claim infallibility? 

For once, Lord Rossmore did not resent his 
wife's interference ; he was himself very unwilling 
to attend the sick call. Although he was one who 
had conscientious ideas (as far as they went) of 
his duty to his parishioners, still, if those duties in- 
terfered with domestic arrangements, or with his 
own health or personal convenience, they were 
easily foregone, or altogether omitted. In the 
present instance, his feelings were such as alto- 
gether unfitted him for administering spiritual con- 
solation or advice to any one. Poor man ! he 
needed both, himself, perhaps even more than the 
dying woman. 

Ask Jemmy what is the matter with his mother, 
and how long she has been ill," said Lord Ross- 
more, without noticing his wife's interference. 

Jane returned in a few minutes. 

My lord, he says its fever ; and " 

Lord Rossmore did not wait for more. Person- 
ally he had no great fear of disease in any form ; 
but could he bear to bury more household treas- 
ures in Horne-hurst church-yard, when the grave 
had already closed on three ? 

Take him this, Jane," he replied, hurriedly. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


79 


putting a crown piece in the girl’s hand ; and 
say I am too ill — that is, I mean, say anything 
which is not untrue about me to the boy ; but tell 
him I cannot go, and get him away as quickly as 
you can, for fear of any infection.” 

Jane thought it would not be untrue to say her 
master was ill, for she never saw him looking 
worse, and she could not quite discriminate be- 
tween mental and bodily suffering. She was a 
kind-hearted girl, too, and she remembered what 
she had felt not so very long ago, when her poor 
mother died in the house,” without any one to 
say a kind word to her ; so she made the best of 
the matter to Jem, and did not hurry him away 
quite as expeditiously as Lady Rossrnore hoped 
and expected. Poor master was very ill,” she 
said ; terribly cut up by Miss Amy’s death, and 
he could n’t go out at all ; but he sent Mrs. Stokes 
this,” and she gave the five shillings as she spoke, 
and a half-crown from herself, which she had been 
treasuring up to buy a new ribbon. 

Jem was thankful for the money, and he said so ; 
but evidently he would have been more thankful 
if he could have brought word to his dying mother 
that the minister would come to her. He thought 
of going over to Mr. Helmore’s, but he remem- 
bered the gentlemen never liked to interfere in 


8o 


HORNEHURST RECTORY. 


each other’s parishes ; and then he thought of the 

dissenting ministers at D , but he had heard 

last week that the independent preacher had lost a 
little girl from fever ; and as he supposed he had 
brought home the infection from a poor man whom 
he had been visiting, he was heard to declare that 
he could never forgive himself for having caused 
the death of his child so he was not likely to run 
risks again. The Baptist minister would not do 
either, for he said no one could be saved unless 
they were plunged head over heels in cold water, 
and mother was bad enough without that now ; 
then there were the New Lights; but last Friday 
he heard Mr. Wigton preaching in the market- 
place, and he was sure he said no one would be 
saved but great sinners, and mother wasn’t a great 
sinner ; he knew that, for she went to church reg- 
ular, and never cheated no one, and never said 
bad words, or let him do it either. Poor Jem ; he 
was a good, kind-hearted lad, and he would have 
run to the world’s end, were it possible, to help or 
comfort his dying parent. 

Well, Jem, and so the parson can’t come ; God 
help him, poor man ! he has his own troubles ; you 
may thank him for the money, Jem, he’s always 
thoughtful that way ; but, Jem dear. I’m thinking 
though the money will feed us on earth, it won’t 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


8i 


get us into heaven ; leastways, unless the Romans 
he’s right, and folks say they get to heaven entirely 
be money/’ 

Mrs. Stokes’s illness was fever, but of a low ty- 
phoid kind, which left her intellect clear until the 
last moment. The sun was setting now, and it 
poured a flood of glory into the room. There was 
a soft knock at the cottage door and some one en- 
tered. The mother’s heart knew the footfall be- 
fore she heard the voice. 

And did they let 3^ou come, Alice, dear? Well 
that was kind, and God bless them for the same !” 

‘‘Yes, mother dear, and the mistress sent you 
this,” she said, opening a basket stored with tea 
and sugar and wine, and other little comforts ; 
“ and master this,” and she placed a gold half-sov- 
ereign in her mother’s hand. 

“ They ’re good, they ’re good. Ally, child, and 
see you be’s good to them. But, oh dear ! oh 
dear ! it’s hard to die this way, without a word of 
comfort or advice.” 

“ Sure, mother, the master would come in a 
minute if he knew you wished it — ” but she stop- 
ped suddenly. Had not Mrs. Helmore told her 
not to come back for a week, and given her money 

to pay her lodgings in D , where she desired 

her to remain for some davs after her mother’s 
4 ^ 


82 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


death, lest she should bring back any infection to 
the children. 

But Jem pulled her sleeve, and whispered all his 
attempts and conjectures, and then both sat silently 
by their mother's bed. 

The sun had set now, and it was getting dark. 
Mrs. Stokes spoke again, but her voice was failing 
her, and it was evident, even to the inexperience of 
her children, that she could not last long. 

Ally, you remember your father?" 

Yes, mother, sure ; and good and kind he was." 

Well, dear, ye mind, when I left you and Jem 
with your grandmother, I followed him across the 
sea, and you know he died there." 

‘‘Yes, mother, sure," said Alice, wondering what 
her mother was thinking of. “ But do n't be talk- 
ing now ; ye 're too weak." 

Mrs. Stokes did not seem to notice her remark. 

“ Alice, dear," she said, making a great effort to 
raise herself," “your father died of the cholera, you 
know that; buk you don't know that he died a 
Roman, for I never told the disgrace of the family 
before." 

Alice and Jem were astonished, as well they 
might. Their father die a Roman ! God help 
him, and God help them, too ! 

“ You know, child," continued Mrs. Stokes, “ the 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


83 


parsons were all afeared of the cholera ; cholera 
morbius, they called it, or some such hard name, 
and said it was the worst kind of all ; well, no 
wonder ; sure they had their ladies and their chil- 
dren to think of as well as theirselves. But the 
dissinters war n’t no better, for they had their- 
selves and wives too ; but the priests, they had n’t 
nobody, and they did n’t care for theirselves ; 
leastaways it seemed so, for they never stopped 
day nor night, working, and working, and work- 
ing. Well, as I was saying, your poor father was 
tooked bad, and as he was always very regular 
to his religion, he sent for the parson, but the par- 
son would n’t come ; and then he sent for the min- 
ister, but he had gone away, for he said he could n’t 
live on nothing, and the people were too poor to 
pay him. At last a neighbor-woman of^ours says, 
and well I remember her queer Irish talk, ^ Ah, 
then, musha, Mrs. Stokes, why don’t ye send for 
the priest ; sure he ’ll come and do the work of 
God, and not let your poor husband die there like 
a hay then.’ Well, your poor father heard her, and 
he says, ‘ Alice,’ says he, ^ I’ll have the priest, for 
that must be the true religion that isn’t afeard of 
death and that loves the poor.’ ” 

Mother, dear,” exclaimed Ally, do rest a bit ; 
you ’ll wear yourself out talking so.” 


84 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


The poor woman was indeed terribly exhausted 
but she said it would make her mind easy to tell 
her children all before she died ; and so she took 
some of the wine Mrs. Helmore had sent, and then, 
after a few minutes, continued speaking ; but her 
voice was so weak now, Alice could not but fear 
every word would be the last. 

Well, the priest came fast enough ; poor man ! 
he had not been in bed for two nights then, and he 
looked almost spent, as well he might. I don’t know 
all he said to your father, for part of the time they 
were alone, but I know he never left the house till 
my poor man was a corpse, and then he put him in 
the coffin with his own hands, and see’d to his 
burying. But one thing I minded well, and that 
was the beautiful prayers he said for him before he 
died, and over him after ; I never heerd the like 
since, neither from the parson nor the minister, and 
I mind how he told him to put all his trust in the 
Precious Blood of Jesus, and said, the Absolution, 
as he called it, that he gave him, would do him no 
good unless he was really sorry for all his sins. I 
am sure I could hardly believe it all, for I heerd so 
often before, the Romans were all wicked idolaters, 
and perhaps they are, only I’m sure this one was n’t 
— the good gentleman, so I suppose he was n’t like 
the rest. Well, he wanted to make me a Roman, 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


85 


too, after 3"our poor father died. But I said ‘ No^ 
sir; I’ll die in the old religion of my father and 
mother, and them as went before me.’ He was 
very good, and said it would be wrong for me to 
turn unless I really wished it. So he got me back 
to my own place ; but when I was going he gave 
me a book, (you ’ll find it in the old trunk, there, at 
the foot of the bed, amongst your poor father’s things 
— I could never part with them,) and he said, ‘ Mrs. 
Stokes, perhaps you will be dying one day, and, 
like your poor husband, may be you will not be 
able to get the parson or the minister. Now re- 
member what I say ; if this ever happens, and if 
3"Ou cannot get a priest, as might be in England, 
where there are so few, just ask some good neigh- 
bor to read you these pra^^ers, and say the Act of 
Contrition, (I mind the name well,) and say it with 
3" our whole heart, for God will never forgive any 
one their sins that’s not sorry for them, and you 
believe, as well as we, that them that’s not forgiven 
will live forever in hell fire ; and who would like 
to be there ?’ So now. Ally,” she continued, '' just 
read me the prayers, and I ’ll say the Act of Con- 
trition, for it can’t do me no harm anyways, and 
may be the Lord will have mercy on my poor sin- 
ful soul.” 

Oh, mother, dear, if you won’t be saved, who 


86 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


will? You that never did wrong to any one, and 
brought us all up well and went regular to your 
church/’ 

I don’t know, Jemmy, dear,” replied the dying 
woman ; I don’t know. When one ’s near seeing 
the Face of the Almighty, things all look different. 
May be what seemed good here, may be bad 
hereafter ; and I ’m thinking now we all do a deal 
more wrong than we ’ll ever know at this side the 
Day of Judgment. But read me the prayers. Ally 
dear, any way ; they did your poor father no harm, 
and may be they ’ll do me good.” 

Ally got the book and read the prayers, and very 
beautiful they were, and the dying woman said the 
Act of Contrition again and again with her whole 
heart. Somehow,” she said, it made her feel 
lighter every time.” 

Alice and Jem watched all night by their poor 
mother. She had seen the sun set but she did not 
live to see it rise. She died just in the chill cold 
hour that always comes before daybreak. Thous- 
ands died that same night, and, before their corpses 
were cold in the spots where they had breathed 
their last, had heard their endless doom. 

But to return to our story. We left Lord and 
Lady Rossmore in their rectory, engaged in a con- 
versation, if such it could be called, when the talk- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


87 


ing was all on one side. His lordship took advan- 
tage of the opportunity afforded by the interrup- 
tion of Jem's vfsit, to make his escape for the time 
being, but his lady had a great deal more to say 
to him. She was determined it should be said, and 
we all know the old proverb : 

“ If a woman will, she will, depend on ’t.” 

Next morning at breakfast-table the attack was 
renewed. It was an unusual circumstance for her 
ladyship to appear at such an early hour ; her health 
obliged her to remain in her own room until late ; 
and if the truth must be known, his lordship never 
objected to the arrangement, as it was almost the 
only time in the day he could see the children, as his 
lady dispensed with their presence, except at very 
rare intervals. 

They had all just flocked in, headed by Katie, 
who kept order, or imagined she did so, and filled 
out papa's coffee," when L.ady Rossmore's maid 
knocked at the door to say her ladyship would be 
down in a few minutes, if his lordship would please 
to wait for her." His lordship did not please it " 
at all, but what could he do? He had taken Ju- 
dith Burke for better for worse, for richer for 
poorer," and if the worse " occasionally predom- 
inated, the poorer " certainly did not, and a man 


88 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


can hardly quarrel with a state of existence which 
he has selected for himself. 

The children fled tumultuously when they heard 
mamma was coming ; not, however, until they had 
nearly smothered their papa with kisses, and re- 
^ ceived the contents of at least half the sugar basin ; 
but there was a cloud over the poor little ones 
when they got back to the nursery, and they did 
not care to play again. Kind old nurse pitied 
them and felt for them, (she had once been a moth- 
er herself,) and gathered them round her to tell 
them stories ; stories which she had told fifty times 
before, for her stock was by no means large, but 
which, nevertheless, seemed always new and fresh, 
because nurse told them, and perhaps because 
they loved everything that nurse did. 

When Lady Rossmore appeared in the break- 
fast-room, she was ominously amiable. Her lord 
(and master, we were going to say, but that 
would be a misnomer) knew that ‘^something’' 
was coming, but he was by no means prepared 
for the something '' that was eventually put 
forth. 

The charms of London society, quiet society of 
course, where you could just see as few or as many 
as you pleased, were duly discussed ; and the un- 
healthincss, coldness, and loneliness of the country. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


89 


SO depressing to the spirits of a delicate person, 
duly commented upon. At last the climax came. 
Dr. Pulsation had advised her strongly to take a 
house in town ; it was impossible her health could 
be ever really restored unless she remained some 
length of time under his care ; and she was sure a 
change would benefit her husband, too ; he ap- 
peared Avorn and ill. Lord Rossmore looked sim- 
ply astonished, but he only answered gently, But 
my dear, what is to be done with the children and 
the parish 

Oh, as to the parish, that is easily settled ; of 
course, you can get a curate \ year, and the 

use of a few rooms in the rectory, would be ample 
payment. And as for the children, really Katie 
ought to be at school, she is quite old enough ; and 
if we get a house near the Park, of course the little 
ones Avill have a place to run in, and could do very 
well, or — ” she paused a moment, doubtful of her 
spouse's concurrence — they could be here part of 
the year under Mrs. Rogers' care. She is such an 
excellent motherly woman." 

Mrs. Rogers had miraculously recovered her 
place in Lady Rossmore's regard and estimation 
since last night. 

‘‘Very well, my dear," replied his lordship, as 
he rose from the breakfast table ; “ I will see about 


90 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


a curate, and I suppose you will attend to the other 
arrangements in due time/’ 

He was leaving the room when the voice of his 
lady recalled him. 

Rossmore, Rossmore, my dear, I hope you will 
be careful whom you engage as curate. If you get 
any of those new High Church people, as they call 
them, he will up*set the whole parish, and — ” 

My dear, I leave you entire charge of the domes- 
tic arrangements, but I intend myself to do what I 
think rig.ht as regards my parishioners.” There 
was an emphasis on the I think right,” that pre- 
cluded further remark from her ladyship, who was 
so completely amazed at Lord Rossmore’s quiet 
acquiescence in all her plans, that she felt unable to 
say more, and actually sat still for ten minutes after 
he had left the room, wondering what it all meant, 
and half annoyed that she could not find the sub- 
ject for fretfulness and complaint which she had 
anticipated when expecting to meet with opposition 
to her wishes. 

That day’s mail carried two letters to London ; 
one was from Lady Rossmore to an intimate 
friend, who sympathized most deeply in the ^trials 
of the afflicted mother and deeply tried wife ; the 
other, more matter-of-fact and business-like, was 
from Lord Rossmore, requesting that an advertise- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


91 


ment which he inclosed might be immediately in- 
serted in a daily paper, whose '^moderate views'' 
insured the support of a large and influential con- 
nection, foremost amongst whom was the said noble 
lord and his still more noble father. 

The advertisement being unique of its kind, we 
have no doubt it will interest our readers, and the 
more so that we can assure them it is given ver~ 
batim : 

‘‘Wanted, for the Rectory of Horne-hurst, in the 

County of D , a curate of gentlemanly address, 

pious principles, and moderate views, combining at 
once the fervor of evangelical zeal with the reflec- 
tive discretion of a good churchman. The use of 
the rectory house and a salary of £^o per annum 
will be given. Duty light, as there are only two ser- 
vices on Sunday. 

“ N. B. — No Oxford man need apply." 

Happy Lord Rossmore ! He thought he had 
steered safely between the Scylla and Charibdis 
of evangelical excitement, and Popish intolerance. 
He did not like to add an inhibitory clause against 
married men, but he knew very well Lady Ross- 
moi^ would not hear of such a thing. Her furniture 
would be destroyed, and he had himself undefined 
objections to Benedicts. 



CHAPTER VTI. 

Protestants without liberty, Catholics without unity, and Papists 
without a Pope. Carlyle. 



Jj UT what will the Bishop say, my dear 
sir? I suppose he must be consulted — 
at least, I imagine the affair can hardly 
be carried out without some sort of approbation 
from that quarter, and if he object — I mean, if he 
should think the step precipitate or imprudent, we 
will be obliged to retract, or at least to delay for a 
time ; and you know, perhaps better than any of us, 
what serious evils may accrue.'' 

Dr. Humbletone sighed deeply, and accompanied 
the sigh by a sound which we can only describe as 
something between a pig's grunt and a cat’s growl. 
It was a habit the poor man had got into lately, and 
he could not help it. The care of all the churches 
lay upon his shoulders ” — grief for past ages, in 
which, unhappily for the departed, his lot had not 
been cast, or he might have spared them an incon- 

(92) 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


93 


ceivable amount of ignorance on matters of faith and 
practice ; sorrow for the present generation, so few 
of whom believed in his personal infallibility, the 
existence of which he never himself'^doubted for a 
moment ; and care for generations yet unborn, who 
were to be enlightened, taught, and benefited by his 
master mind. 

No wonder, then, that Dr. Humbletone groaned 
in spirit. He had laid the cross upon his shoulders, 
for the very excellent reason that no one but him- 
self would ever have thought of putting it there. It 
had proved very heavy, but who was to lighten the 
burden ? Who could venture to compete in intellect, 
in sanctity, in security of personal infallibility, with 
the Rev. Dr. Humbletone, canon residentiary of 
Cathedral, in the ancient and learned Uni- 
versity of X ; rector of Humbletone See, in the 

County of K ; evening lecturer at St. Edgar’s 

Church, a building which was the ornament and 
pride of the aforesaid university ; and professor of 

New Ideas in St. Margaret’s College, ? No 

wonder Dr. Humbletone sighed. But, as he would 
have said himself, this was a mere outline of his 
work ; its real object, its many cares, lay far be- 
neath the surface, hidden, as such work should be, 
from the prying gaze of ordinary and unenlightened 


men. 


94 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


When Dr. Humbletone had relieved himself by 
sighing, he spoke. His voice was low and rather 
guttural ; it was not unpleasing, but there was a 
studied meekness in his manner that might have 
made an acute observer doubtful whether it was not 
a foil to something not so agreeable : 

I would advise caution, the greatest caution \ ' 
(Dr. Humbletone glanced at his nephew, who was 
standing in the window and who did not look like 
an individual who would be capable of exlubiting 
much of the commodity recommended;) ^‘in fact, 
our success mainly depends upon it. No doubt 
our ecclesiastical superiors will take a right view 
of things after a time^ but they must not be indis- 
creetly hurried. One unwise move '' (he glanced 
at the window again) might entail the most serious 
consequences, particularly as the people are by no 
means ready to receive any high doctrine.'' 

The oracle had spoken, and his hearers humbly 
acquiesced. 

A pause followed, of which we will avail ourselves 
to introduce the party more particularly to the 
notice of our readers. As they will have the honor 
of a very intimate acquaintance with Dr. Humble- 
tone before the conclusion of our volume, we will 
say no more of him. 

Mr. Mordaunt, (Dr. Humbletone's indiscreet 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


95 


nephew,) had been educated at St. Margaret's Col- 
lege, under his own especial care ; but there was an 
unfortunate precipitancy about the young man, (at 
least his uncle thought so,) which marred all his 
talents, and seriously threatened to unfit him for an 
associate in a great movement, whose success essen- 
tially required secrecy and caution. The youth was 
obtuse on the subject of expediency, and, apparent- 
ly, not so perfectly satisfied of the infallibility of his 
maternal uncle as the maternal uncle would have 
desired. So, when the Rev. Mr. Mordaunt (he had 
just been ordained) was spoken of as one who gave 
great promise ; as an individual who could be de- 
pended on for presenting right views and as 
one whose unusual talents would fit him for in- 
fluence, the grand motive power of the movement, 
Dr. Humbletone sighed, looked mysterious, and ad- 
vised caution," and no doubt Dr. Humbletone was 
right. 

Mr. Langdale was sitting in an arm-chair near the 
fire. It was he who had addressed Dr. Humbletone, 
as we mentioned in the opening of the chapter. He 
was incumbent of a large and influential parish in 
London, and, being a man of more than common 
earnestness and talent, had attracted an immense 
congregation, to whose spiritual welfare he minis- 
tered with unwearying assiduity. 


96 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


But, as he was one of those distinguished for 
what Dr. Humbletone called ‘‘ right views,’’ his part 
had not been an easy one. To a man of his earnest dis- 
position, personal toil, however great, seemed a mat- 
ter not worth mentioning when compared with the 
mental disappointment of finding that his views ” 
and those of his ecclesiastical superior differed as 
widely as the poles. This had been the case, even 
in matters of doctrine, as well as of discipline, and 
Mr. Langdale’s health, and even his mental powers, 
threatened to sink beneath the blow. In the last 
two or three years, however, matters had bright- 
ened a little. A new ecclesiastical superior had 
lately succeeded the old evangelical dignitary, who 
so severely tried Mr. Langdale’s faith and patience, 
and Lambeth no longer frowned darkly on the 
Humbletonian party. Still, as its reverend leader 
would have said, there was great need of caution. 
Candlesticks had been allowed on the table at the 
East end, but it was a question of time whether 
they would ever be used for their natural and ordi- 
nary office of showing light, and a surplice had been 
permitted to appear in the pulpit, though the red 
or black hood at the back was a perpetual trial to 
its wearer. On the whole, however, matters looked 
brighter. 

It is an old proverb in the Emerald Isle, that 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


97 


“ Patience and perseverance 
Made a bishop of his reverence ;*’ 

and Mr. Langdale was tolerably sanguine that 
‘^patience and perseverance” could not fail in the 
end to secure the ascendancy of right views” of 
the Humbletonian cast, which said '‘views” were 
a peculiar mixture of Catholic truth, Anglican error, 
and the " new ideas” of the reverend originators. 

Two individuals, not yet named, completed the 
party. 

Mr. Weymouth was a private gentleman, which, 
according to the ordinary acceptation of the term, 
means that he did not keep a shop or other place 
of business, but that he lived on his own property, 
(which was considerable,) and Mr. Weymouth had 
been invited to this very clerical and very exclusive 
dinner party,, because Mr. Weymouth was commis- 
sioner of ways and means to the Humbletonians, 
and consequently a person of considerable impor- 
tance. Moreover, he could be trusted, and often 
smoothed little difficulties with the civil authorities. 
In fact, Mr. Weymouth was a very useful and, there- 
fore, a very important person. 

The Rev. Mr. Slingsby was a very young divine, 
wiflt^a handsome face and a vacant expression. He 
did not appear to be overburdened with ideas on 
any subject, and perhaps on this account, time had 
5 


98 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


left no traces on his brow. He highly approved of 
everything that Dr. Humbletone did or said, but his 
conversion to right views” had been sudden, since, 
immediately after his ordination he had appeared 
amongst the ranks of the evangelical party, and 
had preached a sermon before the University of 

X , in which he had declared that St. Peter 

and St. Paul had differed from each other essentially 
in matters of doctrine, one teaching salvation by 
works, and the other by faith only ; consequently 
he, the Rev. Mr. Slingsby, had been driven to the 
painful necessity of ascertaining by his own private 
judgment which was right, and had done St. Paul 
the honor of deciding in his favor. The Humble- 
tonian party had a private, a very private, dislike 
to St. Peter. If his authority had been admitted 
at all, it would have interfered inconveniently with 
their views; so they overlooked the youthful indis- 
cretion of Mr. Slingsby, and he having promised to 
interpret the Articles, Liturg)q and Bible, secun- 
dum Humbletone, was received as a brother in 
Christ. 

Mr. Grant was a gentlemanly young man of good 
family and very sound.” He was a person on 
whom Dr. Humbletone greatly relied. In fact, he 
gave promise of being a steady marrying man (our 
readers may be surprised at the last-mentioned 


HORNE HURSr RECTORY. 


99 


qualification, but the fact was, Dr. Humbletone, on 
the whole, encouraged matrimony in his young 
clerical disciples). It is true he had translated and 
adapted to the Humbletonian theory a little treatise 
on Holy Virginity, which, when purged of the 
errors of the Romish communion, had been private- 
ly printed and cautiously circulated amongst his 
followers ; but, as we have said, on the whole he 
encouraged matrimony. The links of home and 
family were a strong tie to their Mother, the 
Church and some of the doctor's young disciples 
had given him a great deal of trouble by deserting 
their unfortunate Mother, and declaring that she 
was not their Mother at all — not in any way related 
to them. It was a serious matter, for he was 
obliged to look very solemn on such occasions, to 
sigh a great deal more than was good for his con- 
stitution, and to hold up the wicked defaulters from 
his views as a caution" to those whom they left 
behind. Mr. Grant was also poetical in a mild de- 
gree, and had written some little verses which 
might attract attention where weighter matter 
would scarcely claim a moment's notice. 

During the pause which followed Dr. Humble- 
tone's reply, the chimes of a neighboring clock 
struck eleven, and most of the party prepared to 
take leave of their host. 


lOO 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


Dr. Humbletone and Mr. Weymouth were spend- 
ing a few days with Mr. Langdale ; so, when the 
rest had dispersed, they sat round the fire, (it was a 
cold winter’s night,) and continued the conversa- 
tion. 

Mr. Langdale was the first to speak : 

‘‘ And so, Humbletone, you think we must wait 
longer. It is sad, with all the means at our com- 
mand, and the individuals prepared for the work, 
that this must be. Oh ! when, when will a revival 
of catholic feeling and catholic practice take place ? 
When will we be able to proclaim openly all we be- 
lieve secretly ; to bring back the erring children 
without the fold, by showing them what the fold is ; 
and, it might be, even to win our Romish sister 
from the darkness which has shadowed her during 
so man}^ centuries, to the pure light of the early 
ages of faith? These delays and difficulties breed 
mistrust and uncertainty at every turn. Only to- 
day my own little Ethel asked me so anxiously why 
people could not go to confession openly, as she 
had seen crowds of people doing in the churches at 
Paris. And when I told her that the custom had 
fallen into disuse in our portion of the Church, she 
inquired again, how that could be, when the exhor- 
tation in the communion service expressly says that 
persons may ‘ receive the benefit of absolution,’ and 


HORNE HURST RECTOR Y. 


lOI 


should come to their ministers if their consciences 
are uneasy and require it. Surely if confession is 
acknowledged by our Church as a sacramental 
means of grace, we ought to be able to practice it 
openly ; if it is not to be used, then let us seek a 
remedy.'' 

Mr. Langdale rose as he finished speaking, and 
walked up and down the room, evidently much ex- 
cited. 

I will see Ethel to-morrow," replied Dr. Hum- 
bletone ; and no doubt will easily satisfy her. She 
should be taught that the laity, and particularly 
women and children, should not interfere in such 
matters. In fact, the only safe course for them is 
not to think at all, but to let themselves be 
guided by their superiors. But, as for yourself, 
Langdale, I really cannot see what cause you have 
for uneasiness ; you can carry out every practice 
of devotion, almost every rubric, allowed by our 
Church, and what more should a dutiful son ask? 
Let us all beware lest a morbid excitement for 
novelty, or what I should suppose more likely in 
your case, an undue desire for certainty, a certainty 
which we are never intended to have during our 
mortal probation, should lead to casting ourselves 
into a sea whose bounds we know not, and whose 
depths we have not fathomed. The church of our 


102 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


baptism must always claim our allegiance, and woe 
to him who seeks for aught beyond its pale/' 

I do love the church of my baptism, and you 
know it, Humbletone," replied Mr. Langdale, warm- 
ly ; but I can never think that uncertainty in mat- 
ters of faith can be an article of any rational creed. 
If there be a God and a creation, there must be a 
rule for that creation. There is no uncertainty in 
the laws that govern the material world, though 
many of those laws pass the comprehension of the 
human mind. Why, then, should we suppose that 
the irrational is favored abov^e the rational ; that 
there is an unalterable law to guide the wind and 
the wav^e, while the nobler and rational part of 
creation is left to conjecture and doubt, and guide 
itself as best it may through the chaos of conflicting 
opinions? Natural reason alone would lead one to 
suppose that the Almighty must have revealed cer- 
tain infallible truths for the guidance of His crea- 
tures; and this I firmly believe, though I cannot 
as yet see where and how they are to be discov- 
ered." 

Mr. Weymouth had not spoken, but he had been* 
an attentive listener, for the subject was one of deep 
interest to him. Naturally timid, and reluctant to 
speak when any one was present whom he con- 
sidered his superior in learning or piety, he waited 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


103 

with no little anxiety for the conclusion of the 
argument. 

“ Really, Langdale, you are reading and thinking 
too much. You want more active work; it would 
give tone to your mind, and get those strange ideas 
out of your head. Certainty — why, of course, you 
have certainty ; every one has who believes in the 
Holy Catholic Church. Trust her, submit to her, 
without reasoning or questioning, and you will be 
safe and at rest ; but once you begin to reason and 
question, God alone knows where you will end.” 

Yes, Humbletone, if we w^ere certain the Church 
was infallible, we could ‘ be at rest and to reason 
and question would be obviously both wrong and 
unwise. But where is the infallibility of our Church, 
and who believes in its existence except our- 
selves T 

That is a subject which has pressed very much 
on my mind lately,'' said Mr. Weymouth ; ‘^and it is 
a question I have often wished to ask you — Where 
is the infallibity of our Church ? Had the Reformers 
Divine authority for their work, and if the Church 
of Rome was in previous error in matters of faith 
before their time, where was the Infallible Church ? 
It seems to me, with deference to your better judg- 
ment, that to be consistent, we must either main- 
tain that there always was, and always will be, an 


104 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


infallible Church, which has never erred, and never 
can err ; or we must say with the Dissenter, that 
each should use his own private judgment on mat- 
ters of faith, and believe whatever he thinks true ; 
for, as to the theory of uncertainty being a necessary 
part or condition of our probation, I cannot, for a 
moment, entertain the idea/’ 

‘‘ My dear sir,” said Dr. Humbletone, you must 
excuse me for saying that this is a subject a layman 
is by no means bound to consider. Your duty” (and 
the weight of care which the very word suggested 
produced a deep sigh from the reverend speaker) — 
your duty is simply to love and obey your Mother. 
Ours is, alas ! to warn, to bring back the wandering, 
to restore the fallen, and to revive as much of an- 
cient discipline as may have fallen into disuse, in 
the way, and at the time, when our ecclesiastical 
superiors will best be induced to accept such restor- 
ation.” 

But there seems the real gist of the difficulty ; 
how much is to be restored ? And where is the 
teaching authority of our Church, to decide the 
quantity and the quality of the restoration ? Surely 
there cannot be two faiths equally true, and con- 
tradictory to each other ; and yet, if the clergy 
are obliged to subscribe articles which our party 
at best can only explain away, and the laity are 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


105 


told, for their comfort, that they are not bound to 
believe these articles, is not this a virtual declara- 
tion that clergy and laity do not hold the same 
faith, or that our Church believes and teaches what 
is unsound for the laity, and is only subscribed 
with a mental reservation, or, if you will, qualifi- 
cation, by the clergy ? 

No doubt Dr. Humbletone would have advised 
caution, and preached in some other form the value 
and efficacy of uncertainty in matters of faith, had 
he been permitted to reply, but a terrific ring at 
the hall door startled the party, and interrupted 
the conversation. Mr. Langdale sprung to his feet, 
and overset a small table, contents and all, in his 
anxiety to answer the summons, the servants hav- 
ing retired when the younger guests had taken 
their departure. 

A note was handed to Mr. Langdale when he 
opened the door, by a cabman, who said he was 
desired to wait for a reply ; it was directed, in a 
very peculiar hand, to Dr. Humbletone. At first 
the host felt inclined to imagine the whole affair 
was a hoax, but a glance at the reverend doctor’s 
face, as he perused the missive, was sufficient to 
dispel that illusion. 

I fear I must go with this person,” he said, 
evidently with an effort not to appear excited ; a 
S'" 


I 06 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

friend is very ill, and requests I will go to her imme- 
diately ; excuse me, Langdale, but you know we 
priests must be ready for duty at all hours/' 

We priests !” God help him, poor man ! what 
would Lambeth say to that? But, then, it was 
pleasant to say it, so pleasant ; and it sounded re- 
spectable, too ; dissenting ministers did not call 
themselves priests ; and yet, what else was he but 
a dissenter ? It was well for the reverend divine 
that he did not live in the reign of the first head 
of the church to which he belonged ; possibly, 
however, had his lot been cast under the paternal 
government of Henry or Elizabeth, he would have 
preferred his life to the name he so affectioned ; and 
might have discovered, with Tyburn and a quar- 
tering block in immediate prospective, that his 
views were not altogether infallible, and that the 
ministers of an establishment which had renounced 
the great sacrifice, could no longer fitly be termed 
priests. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

“ Oh, how weak 
Is mortal man ! How trifling — how confined 
His scope of vision ! Puffed with confidence, 

And he, poor insect of a summer’s day ! 

Dreams of eternal honors to his name.” 

Henry Kirke White. 

R. DOBBS lived in Regent Street ; and 
Mr. Dobbs had a very extensive and very 
prosperous establishment there. It was 
in the snuff and tobacco line ; but, what matter? it 
paid very well, and Mr. Dobbs was a rising man ; 
a merchant, in fact, who could have bought and 
sold some dozen of smaller fry calling themselves 
gentlemen ; as if it made them gentlemen not to 
keep a shop, when they could n’t lend a man a five 
pound note without feeling twice in their pockets, 
as Mr. Dobbs observed one day indignantly to his 
lady. Yes, Mr. Dobbs kept a shop ; it was a fact 
realized pleasantly by Mrs. Dobbs, who kept the 
money, (her better half was not much more than 

(107) 




io8 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


sleeping partner,) and unpleasantly, very unpleas- 
antly, indeed, by Miss Dobbs, who disliked smoke 
excessively, and even shrank from the most distant 
allusion to a chimney. Poor Miss Dobbs ! When 
with strangers she spoke of '' dear papa ” as an 
‘‘extensive West India merchant’' (we suppose, on 
account of the amount of Havannahs consumed 
on or off the premises); when with friends, she 
wondered dear mamma allowed her father to con- 
tinue in business, he was so rich. But a time came 
when Miss Dobbs felt it a duty to exercise her au- 
thority to compel Mrs. Dobbs to oblige Mr. Dobbs 
to retire from business. Miss Dobbs, though hid- 
den from vulgar ken, had always been the ruling 
power of the establishment ; she ruled Mrs. Dobbs, 
and Mrs. Dobbs ruled Mr. Dobbs, so that, in truth, 
the shop, premises, and appurtenances of No. 90 
Regent Street, might, with perfect truth, be said 
to belong to Miss Dobbs. 

About a year previous to the events recorded in 
the last chapter. Miss Dobbs had exercised her au- 
thority. Dobbs had retired, and sold his business, 
and all interest therein, and mention thereof, to 
Mr. Stubbs, on the express condition that the name 
of Dobbs was then, and forever, to be erased from 
the shop front ; and that Mr. Stubbs was to pro- 
ceed to business on the strength of his own name. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


109 


Late Dobbs/' indeed ! it would have looked well 
when Miss Dobbs was driving by in her father’s 
open carriage ; and if any of her friends in the 
West end noticed the name, they might think if 
was some connection, perhaps even a first cousin, 
or an uncle ! Poor Miss Dobbs ! 

The Dobbses had retired to a very beautiful villa 
in the neighborhood of London, which promised 
to satisfy Miss Dobbs’ love of the aristocratic and 
romantic. Miss Dobbs began now to think con- 
sciously of raising her family in the world ; Cap- 
tain Dobbs would sound very well, and if dear 
papa could only be persuaded to join a militia 
regiment — but dear papa, for once in his life, was 
immovable ; the joint influence (force, we had al- 
most said) of conjugal and filial affection passed 
over him without ruffling, for a moment, his exterior 
calm, or convincing him of the dignity and impor- 
tance of the position to which he could so easily 
attain. 

Happily for the domestic peace of her family. 
Miss Dobbs’ ideas took a new turn. A very evan- 
gelical curate in the neighborhood having proposed 
for her, was refused with indignation ; and his 
church, consequently, deserted by the Dobbs fam- 
ily, who were quite sure Mr. Meekly only wanted 
their dear child for her money. The dear child 


I lO HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 

did not say much, but positively scorned the idea 
of anything so low as a curate, however handsome 
or eloquent ; when a change came o’er the spirit 
of her dream.” She heard Dr. Humbletone preach 
a charity sermon in St. Martin’s, the church now 
honored by the Dobbs’ presence, whereupon she 
then and there determined to know more of the 
reverend preacher, and of the views of the High 
Church party. Her first act on returning home 
was to indite an epistle to Dr. Humbletone, request- 
ing the favor of a personal interview, at his earliest 
convenience, and conveying certain delicate and 
well-timed compliments. 

Human nature is a strange mixture of self-deceit 
and earnest truth - seeking ; and ^ probably Miss 
Dobbs was neither better nor worse than ordinary 
mortals. She was really and sincerely touched by 
the sermon she had heard. There was a calm ear- 
nestness in it, very different, and very much more 
attractive, than the pulpit-pounding preachments 
to which she had so long listened. Her mind was 
at once thoughtful and active ; though there was a 
restlessness in her activity, and a love of power in 
her thoughtfulness, which threatened to mar all 
that gave promise of better things. With no edu- 
cation beyond the ordinary instruction of a fash- 
ionable boarding-school, and a shallow mind, 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


Ill 


whose whole idea of happiness Avas to exercise 
authority, she naturally rested in externals, and 
never sought to penetrate far beyond the surface. 
For the first time, the idea of a church, as some- 
thing definite, something different from four stone 
walls, had been presented to her mind, and she 
eagerly seized on the novel theory, anxious to 
know how far it could be carried. Well aware 
that none of her acquaintances could assist her in 
the research, and knowing nothing of the literature 
of the High Church party, which was then begin- 
ning to develop itself more and more, she natur- 
ally sought instruction from one of its teachers, 
and, doubtless, not without a sufficient conscious- 
ness of the eclat of a personal acquaintance with 
so distinguished an individual as the reverend 
doctor. With natural tact, she had written just in 
the way to attract him. Admiration and defer- 
ence were happily combined ; her very praise 
seemed humility, so delicately was it expressed. 
Dr. Humbletone was immeasurably charmed. For 
once he had found a mind congenial to his own ; 
and, perhaps, one whom he could present as a 
model to his youthful followers. The interview 
which followed only confirmed his hopes. Was 
there another Miss Dobbs in the world ? He 
doubted it ; there might be, possibly ; or, more 


II2 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


probably, there might have been, in the very early 
ages of the church, those happy ages which met Dr. 
Humbletone’s unqualified approbation, and which 
he considered more safe, and more free from error, 
than the centuries which had the misfortune to 
f follow them ; but we doubt if the Doctor could 
conscientiously have pointed to any individual, 
even in those happy times, and said, You, at 
least, are equal to Jemima Dobbs.'' 

How trifling a circumstance may cause an ac- 
quaintance with one who will exercise a life-long 
influence over our destinies ! Frequent, almost 
daily, correspondence, and frequent interviews 
followed, and ere a twelve-month had passed. Miss 
Dobbs expressed her readiness to carry out any 
plans for the benefit and enlightenment of the 
Anglican branch of the Catholic church, which 
Dr. Humbletone's wisdom might suggest. Mrs. 
Dobbs had given her consent, Mr. Dobbs' followed, 
as a matter of course, and with it some few of his 
spare thousands, a commodity by no means to be 
despised in the commencement of this important 
and untried work. 

But Dr. Humbletone and Miss Dobbs were by 
no means the only persons anxious and ready for 
such an undertaking. Mr. Langdale had long 
hoped to see a Protestant Sisterhood founded in 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


II3 

his parish, under the care of his sister, a lady 
who, from her superior intellect and natural amia- 
bility, was eminently fitted for this task ; while in 
other parts of the country, various plans of a simi- 
lar nature were in contemplation, or anticipation 
of speedy accomplishment. But, as is usual in all 
human schemes, there was wheel within wheel, 
and plan counteracted by plan. Dr. Humbletone 
had been extremely anxious for the immediate 
commencement of a sisterhood in Mr. Langdale's 
parish, until he became acquainted with Miss 
Dobbs ; but that lady had convinced him that a 
work of such importance should be confided to 
herself, and to herself only ; consequently, Mr. 
Langdale found frequent and unexpected obstacles 
placed in his way. At one time “ caution was 
advised ; at another it was faintly hinted that his 
sister was perhaps scarcely qualified for such an 
undertaking, and her simple-hearted zeal Avas mag- 
nified into rashness and indiscretion. At last the 
real fact became transparent, and Dr. Humbletone 
advised his friend to place his sister and her prop- 
erty under the direction of Miss Dobbs. At first 
he felt inclined to yield ; but a few days' consider- 
ation suggested, first, the advantage of having 
separate establishments in various parts of the 
country, for, obviously, if there were only one sis- 


. HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


1 14 

terhood, public attention would be concentrated 
on it, and its prosperity, consequently, would be 
more precarious ; secondly, the desirableness of 
seeing Miss Dobbs before negotiating further. An 
interview with the lady decided the question. 
Mr. Langdale was particularly straightforward 
and simple in all his proceedings, and five minutes' 
conversation with Miss Dobbs convinced him that 
she was neither the one nor the other. Although 
he waited on her precisely at the time appointed, 
he was kept an hour in a waiting-room, before be- 
ing admitted to an audience ; and then, was re- 
ceived by the lady in a manner which plainly 
showed that she wished to impress him thoroughly 
with a sense of the favor she had conferred. Her 
sitting-room was strewn with books and papers ; 
an open Bible and Prayer-book lay conspicuously 
near her, and she reclined languidly in an arm- 
chair, from which she did not attempt to rise when 
her visitor entered. A person who, from her 
manner, appeared to be a lady, admitted him to 
the future Reverend Superioress’s sanctorum, and 
apparently fulfilled the office of lady in waiting, 
as, when the interview was concluded, she again 
appeared in answer to a summons given by Miss 
Dobbs with a hand-bell. 

Mr. Langdale had his work and his sister’s in- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


IIS 

terest very much at heart, so we cannot wonder if 
he was a close observer. It did not escape him 
that the unknown individual knelt when Miss 
Dobbs addressed her, as if she had been in the 
habit of. receiving her commands in that attitude ; 
an amount of deference which he ventured to con- 
sider rather beyond what should be required or 
given by one woman to another. Had he seen 
what occurred on his departure, when Sister 
Charlotte was sent to kneel in the corner of the 
room for half an hour, as a penance for her pride,’' 
in having allowed the color to appear in her face 
when kneeling to her superior, because a stranger 
was present, perhaps his thoughts would have 
found vent in expressions not consistent with or- 
dinary politeness. 




CHAPTER IX. 


He lieth still — he doth not move — 

He will not see the dawn of day ; 

He hath no other life above — 

He gave me a friend and a true, true love. 
And the new year will take ’em away. 

Old year, you must not go ! 

So long as you have been with us, 

Such joy as you have seen with us. 

Old year, you shall not go. — T ennyson. 


ARY, dear, you are nearest to the bell ; 
will you ring for coals? and, Charlie, 
do draw down the blinds and close the 
shutters ; it’s an awful night, and when a fellow 
has made himself a victim to domestic affection, 
and is nearly frozen to death by travelling on a 
winter’s night, because he was afraid his distracted 
family would ” 

‘‘ Know he was out, I suppose,” interrupted 
Charlie, laughing. ‘‘ Well, old fellow, you ’ve lost 
some of your nonsense, any way, since you en- 

(II 6) 




HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


II7 

tered T. C. D. ; but come ; let 's have all the news, 
and we’ll do the sentimental after Gerty comes.” 

By the way, where is Gerty ?” exclaimed the 
first speaker ; ‘‘ I have seen you all but her, and — ” 
‘‘ Oh, never mind her, old boy ; Gerty’s turned 
sentimental, or very religious, or something of that 

sort, ever since Henry Mordaunt ” 

‘‘Charlie, do stop,” said Mary, gravely; “you 
know very well ” 

But all remarks that evening were destined to 
interruption, for Gertrude Helmore entered the 
apartment even as her sister was speaking. 

“ Speak of an angel,” exclaimed Edward, as his 
sister appeared ; “ and ’pon honor, Gerty, you ’re 
not unlike one, either ; really, such a vision does 
not meet my enraptured gaze every day.” 

“ Not since your last visit to Merrion Square, 
Dublin, when you saw a certain Katie Rossmore,” 
replied Gerty, with an arch look in her merry eye, 
that seemed a very sufficient contradiction to 
Charlie’s previous accusation. 

“ Glass houses, stones !” muttered Edward, as 
he returned his sister’s embrace, and then took up 
little Alice, who had followed her into the room, 
almost tossing her to the ceiling, as he used when 
she was his baby-pet ; but Alice considered herself 
almost a young lady now, and rather resented such 


1 1 8 HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 

an undignified proceeding as an injury to the re- 
spect due to her advanced years. 

‘‘Well, well! times are sadly changed,” ex- 
claimed Edward, with an air of extreme gravity ; 
“ when I was young — but no matter, Alice ; per- 
haps more serious conversation will dispel that 
ugly frown, and drive away that pout, which, 
however, I must acknowledge is, on the whole, 
rather becoming to your little ladyship. I sup- 
pose I must not make inquiries about your last 
doll, such infantile amusements being long since 
banished, and with them the frivolities of a youth- 
ful mind ; may I then venture to demand the sub- 
ject of your latest scientific research ; your opinion 
regarding the motion of Jupiter’s satellites; or 
your plan for the conversion of the natives of Tim- 
buctoo ; or, will you condescend to sublunary 
things sufficiently to accept the accompanying to- 
kens of my tenderest regard, in the shape — I de- 
clare, I thought I had them in my pocket. Charlie, 
most obliging of brothers, will you request your 
organs of locomotion to conduct you to the hall, 
where you will find ” 

“ Better take care my organs of manipulation 
are not used for the benefit of my gastronomic 
nerves. Miss Alice,” exclaimed Charlie, who re- 
turned almost before his little sister had time to 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


II9 

recover her astonishment at a mode of address 
which she had misgivings might not be altogether 
intended deferentially. A large box of sugar 
plums was produced- from Edward's hat case, the 
only luggage " Charlie could discover in the 
hall. Alice graciously condescended to accept the 
present, but with an air of injured dignity which 
excessively amused her brothers. At this moment 
the parlor maid came to announce dinner, and the 
young people hurried somewhat tumultuously to 
the dining room. Mr. and Mrs. Helmore were 
there already. The former had been waiting in 
his study until the last moment, that he might give 
all the evening to his boy and the dear mother 
had some little extra domestic preparations for the 
loved one, which had occupied her until later than 
usual. It was Christmas- Eve, too, and we all 
know how busy every one is, or imagines they are, 
on such occasions. 

More than ten years have passed away since we 
paid a visit to Horne-hurst Rectory. The willful 
Charlie is almost taller than his eldest brother ; and 
Mary has become mamma’s companion and dearest 
friend. Take my place, Edward,” said Mr. Hel- 
more, as the young man entered the dining-room. 
‘‘ Never, sir, while you live !” he exclaimed ; and the 
tears almost rushed into .his eyes ; he had not learned 


120 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


to call his father ^‘governor/’ nor to speak of him 
behind his back as the old boy/’ 

Mrs. Helmore.said her husband wished it. Ed- 
ward, dear, I think your father would like it ; his 
sight has not been so good lately, and you know 
we must make you useful now and teach you how 
to carve.” 

Mr. Helmore was getting old, and looking old; 
his hair was very gray; but his children said it be- 
came him, and they liked his white locks. The 
dinner went on very merrily ; little Alice appeared 
when the dessert was brought in, but she had not 
quite forgiven her brother for forgetting that she 
was no longer a baby ; and she was a little afraid of 
him too ; it was a year since he had been at home ; 
so she sat between her papa and Gerty, her favor- 
ite sister ; but after a while she condescended to 
come to Edward and let him take her on his lap, 
and play with her long golden curls. 

When the ladies left the room Charlie followed 
them, declaring he always was a lady’s man, and 
could never bear to be separated from the objects 
of his admiration ; but though he did love his sis- 
ters very dearly, (it was not so long since it had 
been the very acme of happiness to sit on Mary’s 
knee and hear her tell ghost stories,) still he had 
other reasons now ; he suspected papa and Edward 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


I2I 


would like to have a quiet chat ; and he was right 
in his conjecture. 

^^Well, my boy,” replied Mr. Helmore, I must 
say I approve of young men marrying early, and 
getting settled in life before their heads are gray ; 
and if the object of your choice only proves herself 
one half as great a blessing to your future home as 
your mother has done to mine : — but Edward, you 
know that your mother is ; God grant—” the old 
man’s feelings were too much for him — he rose from 
his chair and walked up and down the room. Edward 
was silent too, for his thoughts were not without a 
shade of sadness. But Mr. Helmore was not one 
to give way to feeling, or to show that he felt — he 
was almost ashamed that even his son should have 
seen him so much moved. In a few minutes he paused 
at the table, and, filling out a bumper of the rare old 
port for which Horne-hurst Rectory had long been 
famous, he turned gaily to Edward and exclaimed. 
To the health, prosperity, and happiness, of the 
future Mrs. Edward Helmore; and now, my boy, let 
us join the ladies. I am sure your mother will count 
the minutes until you are with her again, though I 
don’t know what she would say, if she knew how 
much of your affections had been stolen from her by 
a certain dark-eyed lassie across the channel. A nice 
thing, indeed, sir, when I sent you to Dublin, just to 
6 


122 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


keep you out of the way of Popery, that you should 
fall in love. I wonder what your mother will say.'* 

But Edward knew very well what his mother 
would say ; he had written to her six months before 
and told her of his hopes and fears and plans for the 
future ; and she had advised him to wait until his 
return from college, and then to speak of it to his 
father ; she knew how it would gratif}^ her hus- 
band if he thought he was the first to hear of it, and 
he did not care for communications by letter, un- 
less on matters of business that required immediate 
attention. 

A glance at Edward when he entered the draw- 
ing-room was sufficient for Mrs. Helmore. She 
knew at once he had told his father, and that his 
plans had met with a favorable hearing. There was 
a bright glow on his face that told of some happi- 
ness even deeper than the deep joy of a return to his 
happy home circle. Before the evening was over, 
the glow had more than once given place to some- 
thing ver}' much deeper, when Mr. Helmore, who 
appeared in unusual spirits, made sly allusions to 
matrimony in general, and love affairs in particu- 
lar. Mary and Gertrude were at the piano, and 
perfectly unconscious of the state of their brother's 
feelings. But Mr. Helmore was ready for his game 
of chess, and Mary had to leave her sister until 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


123 

three games were lost or won, when Charlie usually 
took her place for the remainder of the evening. 

Is n’t there an Irish song called ‘ Kate Kearney ?’ ” 
said Mr. Helmore, with a strong emphasis on the 
Kate,” and a look of sly mischief, which puzzled 
Mary excessively. Just go and sing it for Edward, 
while Charlie tries to checkmate me.” 

Edward appeared deeply absorbed in turning 
over some new music, but it did not escape Ger- 
trude’s observation that the pieces were all upside 
down. Gerty had already made her own conjec- 
tures on the subject, and noticed her mother’s con- 
fusion when she had alluded to the matter a few 
hours before ; so she did her best to screen him now. 

‘‘Did you ever hear this duet, Edward? I think 
you would like it. Come, Mary, and let us enchant 
his ears ; that is, if he can endure home music after 
the concerts and musical festivals of Dublin.” 

“ ‘ Home music !’ O Gerty, where is there music 
like that ? It comes from the heart, and it goes to 
the heart. I have heard some of the first and best 
singers of the day, but never, never have I heard 
music that touched or pleased me like the music 
of my home.” 

“Very pretty, and very poetical indeed!” ex- 
claimed Charlie. “ Upon my word, Ned, I think 
you are turning romantic, like Gertrude. Some 


124 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


day you’ll be found in a ' fine phrensy ’ out in Say- 
tonmere wood ; or discovered writing sonnets to 
the moon under the old oak at the cross roads. I 
have an idea — ” 

If you have, Master Charlie, I would advise you 
to keep it. I am sure it must be valuable, and far too 
original to waste on such ordinary mortals as our- 
selves; but, Mary, do let us have this song; the 
chimes have struck eleven, and we shall have the 
waits here in half an hour.” 

Eleven !” exclaimed Mr. Helmore, starting up 
and upsetting the chess-board, table and all. Why 
did not the servants come up to prayers ? My dear, 
will you ring.^” 

I suppose they thought, as Edward was here, 
we should be later to night, and they would not go 
to bed on Christmas-Eve until after twelve.” 

But, eleven ! my dear, eleven ! we never were 
so late with prayers before.” 

- It was true ; the family at Horne-hurst had kept 
on the even tenor of their way” through the 
changes and chances of all around ; breakfast at 
nine ; the children’s dinner, (now the lunch,) at one ; 
the family dinner at six; tea immediately/ after, in 
the drawing-room ; and pra3^ers at ten, to the very 
moment; after which a servant brought in a tray 
with some light supper, more for Mr. Helmore than 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 


125 


any one else, for it was a peculiarity of his to take 
something, if only a roast apple, before he retired 
for the night. No wonder he exclaimed, “ Eleven ! 
my dear, eleven !” 

The prayers only occupied a few minutes. Mr. 
Helmore never read a whole chapter, as he thought 
it too long for the servants and children ; and he 
did not preach or expound, as he was not fond of 
hearing himself speak, and thought his family could 
read commentaries for themselves, which were likely 
to be as profitable as his own remarks; the book 
used for prayers was also one which could easily be 
abridged, and as no one ever attempted to repeat 
the prayers after him, listening to them being con- 
sidered quite sufficient, it did not much matter if 
the omissions, made for brevity, somewhat inter- 
rupted the sense. 

Now then for the duet,’' exclaimed Charlie, 
jumping up from his knees almost before the con- 
cluding Amen ” had been uttered ; the waits will 
be here in less than no time, and you can get your 
supper after, if you want any ; Mary will, I sup- 
pose ; but as for Ned and Gerty, I presume they 
are above such mundane considerations.” 

The listening group and the two young singers 
would have made a family picture of no common in- 
terest. Mr. Helmore had taken the old cat upon his 


126 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


knee, an honor only conferred on poor Whisker when 
her master was in unusually good spirits. She ap- 
preciated the favor, and purred her very best ac- 
companiment to the music ; while the good old man 
murmured to himself a low mild chime of melody 
as he leaned back in his chair with half-closed eyes. 

Mrs. Helmore was on the sofa looking with very 
pardonable maternal pride at her favorite Charlie ; 
the boy whose childhood had caused so many tears, 
and so much anxiety, and whose youth gave such 
promise of reward. He was sitting on a low stool 
at her feet ; it was his favorite place, and looking up 
with something very like worship into his mother’s 
sweet, peaceful face. Edward stood by the piano. 
There was an expression on the young man’s face 
that perplexed his mother, and it deepened as the 
song went on. Mary was pla3dng, and Gerty, whose 
whole soul thrilled to every note she sung, leaned 
gently on her sister’s shoulder — 

That is very pretty, Mary ; thank you,” said her 
father; ‘^and I like the words, too, 

‘ For love is Heaven, and Heaven is love/ 

‘ Making each the other’s treasure.’ 

‘‘Eh, Mrs. Helmore?” he continued; “I think 
that was written for us.” 

His wife smiled, but she was still puzzled by the 


HORNE^HURST RECTORY. 


127 

expression on Edward’s face, and her smile was a 
little sad. 

Come, Mary ! one more song ; we will have 
time before twelve. Will you play for Gertrude? 
I am sure she will sing my old favorite.” 

dreamt of a blue flower?’ Certainly; only 
it would be far more appropriate to dream of holly 
and ivy to night. I cannot think why you like that 
song, it is so desperately melancholy. 

^ ‘ Fragrant was it, fair and high, 

And it seemed a fragment of the sky. 

It was so very blue ’ ” 

‘‘ Never mind, Mary, let me have it once more.” 
And as his sister searched for the music he mur- 
mured to himself : 

“ ‘ They tell me that it never grew, 

That common flowers are just as blue. 

That all who dream must wake. 

I only know, it was not so. 

And I had one that now I must forego ; 

Alas ! my own blue flower.’ ” 

‘‘The waits! the waits!” cried Charlie; “and I 
do declare there ’s Miss Alice come straight from 
dream-land to wish us all a happy Christmas.” 

Alice paid very little attention to her brother’s 
remark, and sprang past him into her papa’s arms 
to ask for her “ ’Tismas box,” and she got the 
Christmas box she wanted — one long, long em- 


128 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


brace and one big kiss ; and then flew to mamma 
for hers. 

Come, let us put out the lights,'' exclaimed Ed- 
Avard, now fairly aroused from his reverie ; the 
moon is shining gloriously, and we will hear the 
music twice as well in the dark." 

Enjoy I suppose you mean," said his father, 
smiling ; but a bull is very pardonable for a young 
fellow who has spent nearly a twelve-month at the 
other side of the channel. You are right, Neddy," 
he continued, softly, as the shutters were opened, 
and the curcains drawn back; '‘it is a glorious 
night !" 

Nearly an hour passed by unheeded ; no one 
spoke, for the midnight music had a strange thrill- 
ing effect on all. The waits were well trained ; 
and after they had paid their respects to the party, 
another set followed from a neighboring parish, for 
the Helmores were well-beloved for many miles 
round their home. 

The church bells, too, were giving their share of 
harmony, and a merry chime rang out from the old 
tower. One by one the family party dispersed, 
until Gertrude and Edw’ard found themselves alone. 
They did not seem disposed to rest, so they went 
back to the fire and chatted quietly. It was a 
pleasant talk, and in years to come remembered 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


129 

with old memories treasured up by love, when 
hope and fancy had long lain in a quiet grave, 

Gerty, you are very much changed since I was 
at home last, and I do not quite know how, either. 
You look grave, and yet you seem more cheerful.'' 

Gertrude smiled. And I think you are changed 
too, Edward ; but I can fathom the mystery of your 
seriousness better, and I suspect more truly, than 
you could conjecture any cause for mine. Tell me 
about Katie ; are you really engaged, and what do 
the Rossmores say ?" 

What an inquisitive little lady it is !" replied 
Edward, playfully ; and do you suppose, for one 
moment, that I am going to make you the confi- 
dante of my love affairs, and tell you all my secrets ? 
Why, the whole house would know it before break- 
fast to-morrow! You would wake Mary out of 
her sound sleep, which she must be enjoying by 
this time, to impart all particulars to her ; and she 
would tell my mother the first thing in the morn- 
ing, like a good, dutiful daughter, as she always 
was ; then the servants would hear mysterious whis- 
pering and see mysterious looks, and old nurse 
would not rest till she had heard all that was true, 
and a good deal that was not ; so the whole affair 
would be reported, with variations, to the entire of 
village Newton before church time to-morrow, 
6 * 


130 


HORNE'HURST RECTORY, 


and consequently Master Edward would have to 
endure an amount of inspection and observation, 
in the rectory pew, which his very modest nature 
would by no means relish !’' 

‘‘Well, Edward dear, if you do not like to tell 
me, I will not press you ; but you know I love you, 
and you know I love Katie ; and however it may 
be, you will have every happiness a fond sister's 
prayers can obtain." 

Edward saw that his sister was pained ; it was 
the first time he had withheld his confidence from 
her. 

“ My darling sister, we must not part so on 
Christmas eve ; I was but half in jest. We must 
be again as we were in the days of our daisy chains 
and baby loves. I will tell you all, Gerty, and I 
need not ask that my confidence will be considered 
sacred." 

Another hour had passed, and still the brother 
and sister were in earnest conversation. 

“ Edward, what will my father say ; and Katie, 
is she at all aware how changed your views are ?" 

“ I do not know, Gertrude," he replied sadly ; 
“ time will tell ; but for the present I shall say noth- 
ing to my ‘father. I would not dim the joy of his 
Christmas festival ; perhaps after to-morrow I may 
speak." 


HORNEHURST RECTORY. 


I3I 


‘‘ But have you no plan for the future? If you 
give up the Church as a profession, you must choose 
another, for I suppose you could scarcely live in- 
dependently of one, even with Katie’s fortune.” 

What would you say to a red coat, Gerty ; 
would it not become me very well? And who 
knows but some gallant comrade may win and woo 
a certain very pretty sister of mine ; that is, if the 
said sister be not already wooed and won, as I 
more than half suspect.” 

A deep blush was Gertrude’s only reply ; and 
after one fond embrace, the brother and sister sepa- 
rated for the night. 




CHAPTER X. 

“ But I forgot, when by thy side, 

That thou couldest mortal be/’ — Wolfe. 

ORD ROSSMORE succeeded in finding a 
curate to his heart's content. Mr. Birch 
was mildly evangelical, and as his late rec- 
tor observed, not given to extremes ; consequently, 
the parishioners of Say tonmere had no cause to com- 
plain of his ministration. He preached good moral 
sermons ; advised every one to be at peace with 
every one else ; invited the neighboring dissenting 
ministers now and then to a quiet dinner; called 
them his fellow-laborers in the Lord's vineyard 
when they were present, and, in order to give no 
offence to any one, ignored their existence when 
he dined once a year with the canons residentiary 
of the neighboring cathedral town. 

Lord Rossmore's absence was little regretted, 
and Lady Rossmore's still less. All that Lord 
Rossmore had done for the sum of ;^500 per an- 
num, Mr. Birch did equally well for .^'so; the no- 
03 ^) 




HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


133 


ble and reverend gentleman had, therefore, £4So 
a year for doing nothing; and the noble and rever- 
end gentleman did not think it at all too much, 
though we must say he never omitted to send £10 
at Christmas to be invested in coals and blankets 
for the poor. 

People said that Mr. Birch was not a marrying 
man ; but people were very much mistaken, as they 
often are. Mr. Birch was an enthusiastic admirer 
of domestic bliss ; but he found it hard enough to 
live on £^o a year himself, and was very well 
aware that two people, with prospective additions, 
cOuld not possibly live on the same sum ; so Mr. 
Birch contented himself with building a chateaux 
eit Espagne every evening, as he sat over his fire 
after dinner, feeling rather lonely, and hoping some 
day to hear more voices than his own at the do- 
mestic hearth. 

He had never “ told his love,” poor man ! but the 
object of his affections was aware of it, and aware 
of the present impediment to matrimony. Miss 
Williams was a governess, and continued so until 
the happy day when she became Mrs. Birch. She 
had long supported a spendthrift brother, who re- 
paid her with ingratitude and neglect ; but she was 
conscious of having done her duty, and hoped 
against hope for his reform. 


134 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


Ten long years had passed away, and the curate 
became a rector ; a small living, which no one had 
any particular claims on, was vacant, and the bishop 
of the diocese charitably bestowed it on the patient 
and deserving curate. About a month after, a quiet 

wedding took place in E . Neither bride nor 

bridegroom were very young, and there had been 
no romance about the delay ; so no one took much 
notice of them. The bride was not attired in white ; 
she wore a lavender silk dress and bonnet, but she 
looked very happy ; and, if they were pleased with 
each other and the world in general, who had any 
right to complain ? Lord Rossmore was again in 
search of a curate, but Katie was now old enough 
to advise and interfere about such matters. 

Time had made many changes in that family. 
Soon after their arrival in London, Mrs. Rogers 
had been dismissed, and a fashionable young 
lady '' substituted for the faithful nurse. The re- 
sult was such as might have been anticipated ; the 
poor children pined away, and one by one were 
laid, not in the sunny slopes of Saytonmere church- 
yard, but in the cold, damp charnel houses of the 
great city. Exposure to cold, neglect of the little 
attentions so necessary for delicate children, and 
want of love., had done the work of the fell de- 
stroyer. But the fashionable nurse could not, 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


135 


and if the heartless mother wept, it was but for a 
few brief days or hours. She was sure Mrs. Burn 
had done her best for the poor children ; and after 
all, was it not well for them to die young, and 
escape the miseries of the world? Would Lady 
Rossmore ever see those children again? Would 
she ever hear of the untruths they had been com- 
pelled to utter by their faithless guardian ; of the 
nights they had cried themselves to sleep from 
loneliness and fear, while she enjoyed herself in 
the servants’ hall ; of the long walks, far too long 
for their little strength, which they were obliged 
to take, because Mrs. Burn wished to visit her dis- 
tant friends, and could only go when she took the 
children out? Would pale and tearful faces ever 
visit her even in her dreams, and silently upbraid 
her with their early doom ? Or would the white- 
winged guardians of those little ones, who contin- 
ually behold that Face hidden from mortal sight — 
would they have no records against the heartless, 
selfish mother ? Perhaps so — but Lady Rossmore 
had a peculiar horror of what she called romance,” 
and had also what she considered very practical ” 
views on religious subjects ; a fundamental article 
of her creed being, that every one (Roman Cath- 
olics excepted, of course) would be saved, unless 
perhaps, they were legally convicted of commit- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


136 

ting murder, and died without expressing some 
regret for their crime, though, whether the regret 
would be for the consequences of the act, or for 
the act itself, her ladyship might not particularly 
enquire, and so she sheltered herself under her 
happy belief in this comfortable doctrine.” Never 
went to church on Ash-Wednesday, because she 
could not bear that horrid service, (it was so 
shocking to curse one’s neighbors witliout any 
cause,) and firmly believed that to love herself 
with her whole heart and soul, and to consider 
herself and take care of herself in preference to 
any other consideration, or person, past, present, 
or to come, was the great duty of her life. 

Poor Lady Rossmore ! She fared sumptuously 
every day, and was clad in silks and fine linen ; 
but so was another individual, whose views were 
also of the same practical cast as Lady Rossmore’s. 
We are told, however, in a volume in which 
Lady Rossmore always expressed a very strong 
belief, that the individual discovered the fallacy of 
his views at a time and in a place where they could 
not be remedied. 

Mrs. Burke was still living in Merrion Square. 
She was an old lady now ; but time had only 
added to the grace and gentleness which seemed a 
part of her very being. She visited London occa- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


137 


sionally, and occasionally spent a few weeks with 
her other married daughter, but she preferred a 
quiet life at home. Katie was often with her, and 
old nurse Rogers had found a home in her family. 
Lord Rossmore's life was a sad and a lonely one ; 
it is true, his wife loved him, with all her faults, as 
much as she was capable of loving any one except 
herself, but his health was failing rapidly ; and as 
constant reading, his only resource in lonely hours, 
threatened serious injury to his sight, he was ad- 
vised to travel for two or three years, and at last 
yielded to the necessity of the case, and went 
abroad. 

Lady Rossmore did not accompany him ; her hor- 
ror of Popery, and the discomfort she anticipated 
if she exchanged the comforts of an English home 
for the bustle of a foreign hotel, convinced her that 
Lord Rossmore would get on much better without 
traveling companions. Katie was in Dublin with 
her grandmamma when the affair was decided. 
Lord Rossmore wrote to her with his usual affec- 
tion : ‘‘To have my child with me would be all I 
could desire ; and I well know that her father’s so- 
ciety, and the pleasure she would have in cheering 
his banishment (for such I must call it), would be 
far more to her than the gratification of visiting 
foreign lands. But, dearest Katie ! I fear it cannot 


138 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


be ; )^our mother will not hear of it, and we must 
not widen a breach already but too deeply made.’' 

As Catherine Rossmore was always an early 
riser, Mrs. Burke was not surprised to find her in 
the breakfast room, although she entered it rather 
earlier than usual ; but the tears almost started to 
her eyes when she saw the pale and anxious face 
of her darling child. Alas ! she knew but too well 
that that young, loving heart had to suffer from the 
coldness and selfishness of one who should have 
been dearer to her than all besides. 

‘‘ Katie, darling ! what is the matter ? Have you 
heard from home to-day ? I have had a few lines 
from your mamma, and — ” 

Grandmamma, I know what she says, you need 
not tell me. Papa has written he is going abroad 
for two or three years; perhaps” — forever she 
would have said, but her tears would not let her ; 

he does not ask me to come to him, but I know 
he wishes it ; and I will go, grandmamma, this very 
day, no matter what mamma may say. Oh, why 
was I born to be so miserable ! If I am with papa, 
mamma is jealous ; and if I am with you it is almost 
as bad ; and when I am at home she gives me no 
peace with her whims and fancies. I do think she 
cares for no one but herself, and I am sure no one 
cares for her.” 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


139 


Katie, darling! she is your mother whatever 
she may be, and you must bear with her. But let 
me see your papa’s letter ; surely he would not \yish 
you to travel ajone to London, and in such weather.” 

But Katie was determined ; her Irish home and 
her grandmamma’s love were the bright lights in 
a life whose shadows had been all too dark for one 
so young ; but her love for her father was some- 
thing far deeper — yes, even deeper than that love, 
so deep and tender, which an only child often feels 
for an only parent. Since the days of her child- 
hood, when she had been his plaything and little 
companion, when she had made his coffee in the 
mornings, and nestled in his arms when evening 
closed in, while he read, or sat musing on what was, 
and what might have been, she had been his dear- 
est treasure, his comforter, even in more ways than 
he had realized. And as the bud of girlhood un- 
folded into the flower of maiden beauty, the tie was 
bound even closer than before. All that she knew 
and all that she learned was taught by her father ; 
and it was at once his pleasure and his pride that 
his child should excel in attainments which few of 
her sex could ever dream of mastering. The evan- 
gelical parties frequented by her mother had but 
little attraction for her highly-cultivated mind, and 
the gayer revels to which she was invited when in 


140 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


Dublin, were as little to her taste. Now and then 
she spent a month at Horne-hurst, but the intimacy 
had gradually lessened, and during the last few 
years she had scarcely ever corresponded with her 
old friends. Mrs. Helmore thought her cold and 
reserved, and disliked her rather pedantic manners, 
while Mary and Gertrude still loved the playmate 
of their childish days, though the former was not 
without misgivings as to her future. But there 
was one member of the family who had loved her 
long and deeply ; from childhood to girlhood the 
tide of affection had still flowed on in noiseless, 
quiet waves, only now and then swelling out more 
grandly on the shore of desire, as some new trial 
darkened the young girl's life path. But so silent 
had been its progress that it was unobserved by 
all ; even the mother had not fathomed the secret 
of her eldest born, and was as much startled as fond 
mother could be when Edward's letter told the 
tale, and the love long cherished in secret was 
openly proclaimed. 

Mr. Helmore had always intended that his son 
should follow the same profession as himself, and 
until now Edward had made no opposition to his 
father's wishes. To ensure him from all taint of 
Tractarianism he had been sent to Trinity College, 
Dublin, where influence and interest weighed hea- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


14I 

vily in the opposite balance. Edward had acqui- 
esced in his father’s arrangements, though his 
kindly heart was pained to know that the family 
home was destined for himself, as Mr. Helmore 
had purchased the advowsQn of his living, and in- 
tended to retire to a neighboring town when his 
son was in a position to succeed him. Alas for the 
old man, when he shall find his cherished hopes 
destroyed, the hopes treasured for years, and so 
almost realized, that their destruction was a more 
than common sorrow ! 

Edward had been a constant visitor at Mrs. . 
Burke’s, since his residence in Dublin ; and-, though 
he frequently called when Katie was in London, 
and was always ready to drive or walk with the 
old lady, or render her any little service in his 
power, still she could not but perceive that he was 
more at home, when Miss Rossmore was with her, 
and that on such occasions his visits were more 
frequent. He had dined there the very day before 
Catherine had received her father’s letter, and that 
same day had been appointed to attend a horticul- 
tural fete with the ladies. 

“ Poor young Helmore !” said Mrs. Burke, after 
they had discussed the painful intelligence of that 
morning’s post ; he will be disappointed, too, 
Katie. If it had been nearer Christmas,” she con- 


142 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


tinued, half aloud ; but, no, it would scarcely 
have done to send you alone with him, though we 
are so intimate. I wish he was here, Katie ; will I 
write to him to come over? Perhaps he could 
suggest some plan, or would know some elderly 
person who could take charge of you. If Rogers 
was not so old, or Ellen so young, I could send 
either of them ; but as it is, I fear they would be 
worse than useless.” 

Now, grandmamma, darling grandmamma, do 
not be so uneasy ; you will see, I can take care of 
myself famously, and, you know, it will be better I 
should go alone ; mamma will be less annoyed 
than if I took a servant, she dislikes any one from 
Ireland so much. Yes, do write for Mr. Helmore; 
he must know we cannot go to the fete to-day, and 
he will be a comfort to you when I am gone.” 

Mrs. Burke smiled as she went to her writing 
table. I think, Katie, Mr. Helmore will require 
a little consolation himself.” 

But Katie was too much absorbed in anxious 
thought to notice the smile or the remark. 

The breakfast was taken away almost untasted, 
and Mrs. Burke sat down for her usual morning's 
reading, while Catherine hastened to her room to 
pack trunks, and make arrangements for departure 
by the evening’s packet. Mrs. Rogers and her 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


143 


grandmamma's waiting woman were busy assisting 
her ; but, poor child ! she would far rather have 
been alone. Her heart was weary and overladen 
with sorrow, and there were strange misgivings of 
yet deeper anguish hidden in the dim future, vague 
undefined fears, strange anticipations of trial which 
seemed almost harder to bear than the present 
affliction. 

Nurse, dear, you will be tired, and so will 
Mrs. Bryan ; do let me finish now ; there is not 
much more to do, and I will know where to find 
my things better if I pack them myself." 

Mrs. Rogers looked very much pleased at Katie’s 
consideration, but seemed hopelessly determined 
to help her. Mrs. Bryan was indignant at the 
very idea of fatigue, for, though she had always 
lived as lady’s maid, she declared she could and 
would ‘‘ take a hand ’’ at anything that was wanted, 
even to scrubbing the floors, or assisting in the 
kitchen ! No wonder that Mrs. Bryan was a 
favorite in the household. To think of her being 
tired, and she used to work all her life, it was too 
bad of Miss Rossmore ; tired, indeed ! and if she 
was itself, much matter about it ! Did n’t she love 
Miss Rossmore for herself, to say nothing of her 
being her own darlin’ mistress’s favorite child ? 
Tired, indeed !’’ And Mrs. Bryan relieved her 


144 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


feelings and vented her indignation at the aspersion 
cast upon her character, by putting every mova- 
ble article of furniture out of its place, to make 
more room for the trunks and portmanteaus, and 
by packing and unpacking books, dresses and bon- 
nets, until Katie laughed outright, and then began 
to cry, and threw herself into nurse Rogers' arms, 
as she used to do in her baby days, and declared 
every one spoiled her in Dublin. 

It was true, Katie was a great favorite in Mer- 
rion Square. She had a kind word and a kind look 
for every one, from the kitchen maid, whom she had 
already taught to read, finding the poor girl was 
anxious to learn, to her grandmamma’s cross lap- 
dog, who never growled at her, though no one 
could tell how she had won his capricious affec- 
tions. There was always joy when she came to 
the house, and always sorrow when she left it ; 
and yet, she was herself perfectly unconscious 
how she threw sunshine over the paths of others, 
and would have scarcely believed it had she been 
told it was so. Perhaps a long apprenticeship to 
sorrow and a naturally affectionate, thoughtful dis- 
position, had given her that instinctive knowledge 
of the feelings and inclinations of others, a right 
use of which is the surest way to their affections. 

The packing was scarcely completed, when a 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


145 


gentle knock was heard at her door — Mrs. Burke 
wanted Miss Rossmore in the drawing-room im- 
mediately. As Katie received the message, a sud- 
den hue flushed her pale cheek for a moment, and 
as suddenly vanished, leaving it even paler than 
before. Mr. Helmore was pained when he saw 
her, she looked so ill and worn. 

Indeed, Miss Rossmore, you seem very unfit 
to travel ; this is very sudden, very trying.'* The 
young man seemed so deeply concerned that Katie 
could not but feel touched and grateful. 

Only for papa, I would not think of going 
back to London. I cannot bear to leave grand- 
mamma, she will be so lonely ; but it must be. I 
could not let papa leave the country without seeing 
him. I know he would feel it, though he does not 
say so." 

But you will return at once, I hope ; London 
has not many attractions for you, I think, and, I 
am sure, Mrs. Burke will almost count the hours 
until you are with her again." 

I fear not," she replied, sadly ; ‘‘ mamma will 
scarcely allow me to leave her until next summer ; 
perhaps then — " the tears started to her eyes, 
though she tried hard to keep them back ; the ex- 
citement of the morning had been too much for 
her. “ Mr. Helmore, you must think me very 
7 


146 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


foolish ; but you have sisters, you know — you un- 
derstand ; women will be foolish sometimes,’' she 
continued, trying to smile, and grandmamma can 
tell you — " but Mrs. Burke had left the room. 
Katie thought she had gone into the back drawing- 
room for her work, but Mr. Helmore had seen more ; 
his perceptions were very acute that morning. 

Miss Rossmore — Katie," he murmured ; oh, 
why can we not be as we were in our happy child- 
hood ? Why not give me the privilege of being 
your comforter, at least, until I can shield you 
more effectually from sorrow, as God knows, I 
would, even with my very life?" He took her 
hand gently in his own, as he spoke. It was not 
withdrawn. Catherine Rossmore was not a ro- 
mantic young lady, neither had she any particlar 
fancy for a scene ; but the joy, and it was a joy to 
hear the words of love, though the love had long 
been told in other ways, was too much for her, and 
she could only cover her face with her hands, to 
hide tears which might have been misunderstood. 
But they were not. Nay, dearest one, do not 
try to hide that poor pale face ; you must feel, and 
feel deeply ; and if you repress your sorrow too 
much, it will but increase the more. Will you not 
write to me, Katie, and tell me what your father 
says, and all you know I will wish to hear ?" 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


147 


An hour passed away, and still the two young 
hearts were dreaming their first dream of love. 
Life seemed mysteriously changed to both in that 
little hour. Its sorrows were still sorrows, but they 
seemed less like dark, angry clouds, and more like 
those rich, deep shadows which make light more 
beautiful. The poor flower had found a support 
for its frail stem, and yet it strengthened even while 
it clung. And the young tree looked grander and 
more noble as it bore up the treasured plant which 
seemed so surely its own special care. 

When Mrs. Burke returned, a glance told her all. 
Katie made an excuse to leave her alone with Ed- 
ward, from whom she soon learned how he had 
wooed and won her child ; and then they talked 
over the future, and how and when it would be 
best to mention the matter to the Rossmores. 

Edward will stay and dine with us,” said Mrs. 
Burke when Catherine returned ; and then he can 
see you off in the packet.” 

How the young man thanked her ! Edward !” 
it was so pleasant to hear the name once more. 
His grateful look won a deeper place than that 
which he already possessed in the old lady's es- 
teem and affection. The time passed on as time 
will pass when a sorrowful parting is near. 

The packet had steamed away from the beautiful 


148 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


harbor. Edward had returned to his rooms; they 
looked unusually cold and cheerless. Old Mrs. 
Burke retired earlier than usual, and did not sleep 
until long past midnight ; and Katie, poor child ! 
she was sailing alone on the wide, wide ocean, and 
all the more alone for the numbers who crowded 
the cabin and deck of the swift-sailing vessel. Ah, 
why had she no father, no brother, no kind sister 
near ! She was leaving sorrow behind her on the 
shores of the green isle ; sorrow was waiting for 
her on England's coast even deeper and darker 
than her fears. Poor Katie ! 




CHAPTER XI. 

“ The moment any religion becomes national, or established, its 
purity must certainly be lost, because it is then impossible to keep 
it unconnected with men’s interests ; and, if connected, it must in- 
evitably be perverted by them.” — S oame Jenyns. 

EALLY, my dear, this is quite absurd. 
I don’t know how you will get through 
life with these romantic notions. If your 
father was dead or dying, you might be excused ; 
but when he is only gone abroad for a short time 
on a little pleasure excursion, it quite alters the 
case. What will people say ? But I suppose you 
wish to be thought a devoted daughter at your 
mother’s expense. Just that might have been ex- 
pected when you have been spoiled first by your 
father, and then by your foolish grandmother. If 
you had been left to your mother’s care, you would 
have been a very different girl to-day, much more 
dutiful and obedient.” 

But, mamma, I do not see why the party can- 
not be put off for a few days or a week. If we had 

(H9) 




1 50 ' HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 

once heard from poor papa, and heard he was set- 
tled anywhere, it would not be so painful ; but you 
know the doctor said he was very unequal to the 
journey, and might suffer seriously from it/' 

Stuff and nonsense !” exclaimed Lady Rossmore 
indignantly ; she was not very particular in her 
choice of language at times. Doctor Brown 
knows nothing about your father's case, in my 
opinion ; but I am never listened to or consulted 
on any subject. If he had seen Doctor Pulsation, I 
would have been quite satisfied ; but he would not 
be guided by me, so he must take the consequences. 
I am sure we will have a letter in a few days, and 
in the mean time I must request you will keep 
your fancies to yourself, and not lead people to sup- 
pose that I do not care about my husband or my 
child. You are never improved by being in Dub- 
lin, where every one flatters you ; so I suppose I 
must have patience until you learn to be a little 
more obedient and dutiful to your poor delicate 
mother." 

Catherine made no reply ; but her silence was a 
silence of contempt, and Lady Rossmore half sus- 
pected it ; however, as she had a little plan of her 
own in view for Katie's advancement in life, she 
condescended to be unusually amiable. The car- 
riage was ordered at the usual hour. Miss Ross- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


ISI 

more was not asked to accompany her mother ; but 
this was no unusual occurrence, as the mother and 
daughter generally preferred different avocations. 
While they were at dinner a large parcel arrived 
for Miss Rossmore. When the cloth was removed, 
Katie opened it at her mother's request, and found, 
to her surprise, that it contained an evening dress 
of magnificent material, a case of pearls apparently 
new, and other little et ceteras of a fashionable 
toilet. 

There was a note within the pearl case directed 
to herself ; the handwriting she at once recognized 
as her mother's. 

My Dearest Child, — Perhaps when your moth- 
er is laid in her cold and silent grave you will re- 
gret her, and then, when it is too late, will believe 
that she has been your best and most faithful friend. 
The accompanying pearls, etc., are a present from 
Your devotedly fond mother, 

Judith Rossmore. 

It was with no small effort that Katie prevented 
herself from throwing the note into the fire, and 
the presents at her mother's feet. To be bribed to 
love was rather too much for one of her sensitive 
and refined feelings ; and this by a mother. One 
kind word, one action in which there was a shadow 


152 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


of self-sacrifice, would have been a priceless treas- 
ure ; but to be taunted with not loving when she 
longed to love, and to have her mother speak as if 
she was the injured party, when her life had been 
one continued career of neglect of the feelings and 
indifference to the trials of others — it was too much. 

I have seen Mr. Frisk to-day,'' said Lady Ross- 
more, when Katie had duly admired and acknowl- 
edged the presents, ‘‘ and asked him could he ap- 
point another evening for bringing his friends 
here ; but he says it is impossible ; the Bible meet- 
ing will be to-morrow, and the deputation can only 
remain one day longer. Indeed, he said they would 
not remain for any one except myself ; but that I 
was such an ardent promoter of their work, they 
felt it would be an injustice to refuse ; so you see, 
Katie, your mother has not neglected your wishes, 
and I hope it will be a lesson to you not to neglect 
hers." 

‘‘ I suppose, mamma, I need not attend the meet- 
ing," replied Miss Rossmore, without taking notice 
of her mother's admonition ; they are so stupid, 
always the same thing over and over again, so 
many Bibles sold and so many Bibles bought, and 
so much money collected ; I am sure I know every- 
thing that every one will say, by heart." 

I can say you are fatigued from your journey. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


IS3 


and I suppose that will be a sufficient excuse for 
this occasion ; but, indeed, my dear, I am surprised 
and shocked at the flippant way you speak on such 
a subject. What would we do without the Bible 
Society ? Why, the whole country would become 
pagan in less than half a century ; and the un- 
happy Irish ! I tremble to think of the utter misery 
and degradation to which they would be reduced 
if there were no charitable persons to press the 
word of God on their acceptance. Their priests 
would never let them know there was such a book 
in existence, if they could help it. Indeed, my 
dear, if it was only for example's sake, every one 
should be present at such meetings ; a little fatigue 
once a year is surely only a trifle, in comparison to 
the good to be done. I would send all the ser- 
vants, and I am sure they would be delighted to 
go, but only for the preparations that will be re- 
quired for the dinner-party next day. I am anx- 
ious for everything to come off well, as there will 
be so many strangers, and the clergymen who 
travel on those deputations are very remarking. 
Mrs. Hellier told me the other day that Dr. 
Thundertone (you remember Dr. Thundertone, I 
am sure, my dear ; he spoke so nicely at the last 
meeting, about the foll}^ of that wretched Irish 
woman, who died of starvation because she would 
7 * 


IS4 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


not allow the Bible-reader to visit her ; and showed 
the absurdity of a religion that would lead people 
to endure a miserable death, sooner than do what 
they imagine would be against their conscience ; 
and he spoke, too, at the same time, of the wicked- 
ness of fretting, and self-mortification, and good 
works; all that kind of thing, which only made 
people proud, was done away with entirely by the 
new dispensation of grace) ; but what was I going 
to say? Oh, yes, Mrs. Hellier told me that a friend 
of hers in the country, where Dr. Thundertone 
had been staying, had written to say she should be 
particular about his meals, as he had remarked 
that one family where he had been, (she mentioned 
the name, too, but, really, it has escaped my mem- 
ory,) had not giv^en him hot meat for breakfast ; 
and another family who had invited the deputation 
to dinner, had given them inferior wine ; and there 
was no soup, only fish, at the first course ; and the 
meat was badly cooked, quite soddened. I sup- 
pose the dinner had been ordered too early, or the 
meeting had lasted longer than was expected ; so 
you see, my dear, the servants cannot possibly 
attend ; therefore, there is all the more reason why 
we should be present ; but, of- course, my dear, if 
you do not wish it, I will not press the matter fur- 
ther.'' 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


155 


‘‘ Wish it Indeed, Lady Rossmore, Katie did 
not wish it ; and not only did not wish it, but had 
positively and determinately made up her mind 
not to go ; but her ladyship had special, very spe- 
cial, reasons for being very amiable and very con- 
descending this evening. 

Is Mr. Frisk married, mamma inquired Miss 
Rossmore. The question was asked simply because 
Katie wished to turn the subject of conversation 
from herself — not that she had the very smallest 
interest in the Reverend gentleman’s affairs, matri- 
monial or otherwise. You know, he was appointed 
to Hertford Street chapel, since I went to Dublin.” 

No, my dear,” replied Lady Rossmore, “ he is 
not ; and I am very glad of it. Indeed, I believe 
Mrs. Hellier made it a special stipulation, when 
the trustees appointed him, that he should not 
marry for several years at least, the congregation 
fell off so dreadfully after Mr. Lions married. You 
may remember, it was almost impossible to get 
even a single sitting for some time ; but for the 
last year, indeed until he was obliged to leave, and 
Mr. Frisk was appointed, there were whole pews 
to let ; but now the church is more crowded than 
before, and he is succeeding even better than Mr. 
Lions. His views are more Calvinistic and his 
manner more popular. He visits a great deal 


156 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


amongst his congregation, and reads and expounds 
at religious parties almost every evening. Indeed, 
he is a very attractive, gentlemanly young man. 
But, my dear, you need not fall in love with him ; 
for, I assure you, Mrs. Hellier intends he shall 
marry Helena, though not at present, of course, 
until his popularity is more secure ; as it is, they 
say all the unmarried ladies have lost their hearts 
to him, and all the old ladies are convinced their 
daughters are the special objects of his admiration. 
I am told he has been sent as many worked slip- 
pers, purses, and cambric pocket-handkerchiefs as 
would furnish the stall of a bazaar ; and there is 
regular jealousy every Sunday about whoever he 
escorts home from the morning service. Of course, 
he is a great deal with the Helliers ; but then, you 
know, he must be civil to them, at least to Mrs. 
Hellier, but 

Mamma, is there service still on Wednesday 
evening ? If there is, I would like to go. I think 
it is not too late,’' and she glanced at the time- 
piece, which pointed to half-past six. 

'' Catherine, my dear, what do you mean ? Why, 
you would be the talk of the whole congregation 
to-morrow ! Every one would say you went to 
see Mr. Frisk ; and very naturally, for what other 
motive could you have for going out such a despe- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


IS7 


rately cold evening ? Really, my dear, it is not' 
like you to act in this precipitate way ! To go to 
church, and on a week-day evening, and to leave 
your mother alone ; really, my dear, it is quite in- 
comprehensible 

I intend to go, mamma,'' replied Miss Ross- 
more, rising quietly. She had learned the Fifth 
Commandment (Protestant version), but it must be 
confessed, she exercised the right of private judg- 
ment, and interpreted it in her own fashion. 

Catherine, my dear, I entreat, I beg !" almost 
screamed Lady Rossmore, as her daughter was 
slowly and deliberately leaving the room ; really, 
Catherine, I must positively forbid this folly; you 
will see Mr. Frisk here on Friday, in a proper way, 
at your mother's house, and " 

‘‘Mamma, this is too absurd ! You know well 
enough I care as little for Mr. Frisk as I did for 
Mr. Lions, or any other of those self-conceited 
men who call themselves ministers of the gospel, 
but I want peace ; I want quiet — oh, my God, I 
do not know what I want ! But there is something 
in the evening service that always makes me feel 
happier ; and you know, dear mamma, I always 
go when I am at home." 

It was a hard struggle to keep back her tears 
and to sit down quietly in her seat, and listen all 


158 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


the long evening to her mother’s gossip. How 
different from the bright, happy fireside at Mer- 
rion Square, where she could remain for hours on 
a low stool at her grandmamma’s feet, and listen to 
her tales of olden times, of those whom she had 
loved in youth, who were dead and gone — gone to 
that shadowy spirit-land, from which her fancy 
summoned them. And, later, there had been another 
form and another voice at the domestic hearth ; 
and just as she had realized all that form and that 
voice would be to her, a dark cloud had risen, 
which threw its dismal shadow on the future, and 
dimmed even the memories of the past ! 




CHAPTER XII. 

“ A pious hypocrite, 

Who smooths his brow with cunning and deceit, 

And lives upon his neighbor’s fame.” — Old Play. 

R. HELMORE was sadly distressed when 
he heard his son's determination not to 
enter the Church. At first he feared that, 
in spite of his precaution, some Tractarian influence 
was inclining him Rome wards ; but his mind was 
soon relieved on that point. Still, he could not 
understand it. How a young man, engaged to be 
married, and with the most attractive and com- 
fortable prospects in life, could renounce all this, 
choose a profession for which he had always shown 
a repugnance, and, more than all, place serious im- 
pediments to his settlement in the married state, 
was past comprehension. 

But what does Miss Rossmore say ?" inquired 
the old man, when Edward had gently and respect- 
fully told him all. 

•‘You shall see for yourself, sir," replied Ed- 

(159) 




1 6o HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 

ward ; while, with a confidence as noble as it was 
unexpected, he placed a letter in his father’s hands. 

I wrote to her soon after she left Dublin, and told 
her all ; and this, sir,” he continued, with a pardon- 
able pride, this is her reply 

My Dearest Edward, — The contents of your 
letter were indeed unexpected, and at first very 
painful. I feared, as I am sure many will, that you 
might have been influenced by some of those Rom- 
anizing tendencies (or perhaps even personally by 
some priest in disguise) ; but as you have explained 
all, I can now understand, yes, and appreciate your 
noble disinterestedness. You think it will make 
me doubt your love for me, if, by acting on cold 
conscientious scruples, you place a hindrance to 
our immediate union. On the contrary, my brother 
(I love so to call you, and to think of you by that 
name), it will confirm me in my love and trust. 
He who would sacrifice what is dearest to him lest 
he should offend God, is a friend worth having. 
Never mind, sunshine will come some time or 
other, all the brighter for the darkness that pre- 
ceded it. ‘‘ The Lord is my banner;” this must be 
our motto ; and He has promised never to forsake 
them who trust in Him. What a comfort texts of 
Scripture and hymns are when one is in trouble ! 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 1 6 1 

We have got a new clergyman here, a Mr. Frisk ; 
but I do not much like him. I liked Mr. Pious 
much better. I suspect, however, Mr. Frisk’s 
views would suit you. Now, don’t be shocked at 
Avhat I am going to say. Do you knoAV I am get- 
ting every day more and more convinced that there 
is a Church, and that the Church of England is the 
only Church purely free from error ? Still, I can 
understand your feelings about the remnants of 
Popery. We still have a grave objection to sign 
articles and read a liturgy which so often appear 
contradictory to each other. Perhaps, some day, 
the articles will be altered ; but if they were, we 
should differ still, I suppose, for I would like to 
have them made more like the Prayer Book, and 
you would like the Prayer Book altered to suit 
them. Still, if we all hold the Head, and seek for 
salvation through Christ alone, what does it mat- 
ter about these little differences? Though I suppose 
if there is a Church, we ought to believe in it. You 
will laugh if I ask you to read ‘‘ Hooker I mean 
the Ecclesiastical Polity.” I think it was that 
book gave me what I suppose you would call High 
Church whims. But you need not be afraid ; you 
know I hate Popery in every shape and form. 

Have you told your father and mother yet? I 
am very anxious to know what they will say to our 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


162 

engagement. I would not, for the world, it should 
be continued if they did not approve of it.’’ 

Mr. Helmore returned the letter to his son. Do 
you think Miss Rossmore would come here ? I 
am sure your mother w’ould be very glad if she 
did ; and we might then talk over matters, and per- 
haps arrange some plan for your being married 
sooner than appears practicable at present. I do 
not like long engagements.” 

I scarcely know, sir, how it could be arranged. 
Lord Rossmore has given his consent ; he would 
not oppose Katie in anything ; but her mother is a 
peculiar person, and I feel she will be only too glad 
to place obstacles in the way. Perhaps if my mo- 
ther would write to Miss Rossmore — ” 

You are right, Edward, yes, that would be the 
better way, and the most correct, too,” said the old 
man with a smile. Very proper, sir, very proper, 
indeed, and remarkably cool and collected for a 
young man who ought to be over head and ears in 
love, and therefore not always so prudent.” 

The dinner party at Lady Rossmore’s had gone 
off with great eclat. Sir Timothy Tadpole, who 
had presided at the meeting, did the honors by her 
ladyship’s special request. Dr. Thundertone was 
extremely amiable, and very condescending for so 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 1 63 

important a person. He had brought a great lion 
with him, whose growl and the interest of whose 
appearance had threatened to throw the Doctor in 
the shade, but the Doctor was not easily abashed, 
he had seen too much of public life for that. 

Sir Timothy Tadpole was member for Thorns- 
bury. He had descended from a very ancient 
family, the Oddfishes, who in a remarkable man- 
ner survived the flood, and therefore might be 
considered remnants of the antediluvian world. 
They had been noticeable for the facility with 
which they always swam with the tide, and 
weathered storms that would have utterly 
destroyed individuals of more adhesive habits. 
In fact, it was said that the Tadpoles always 
slipped through a difficulty, which was not very 
surprising, considering the nature of the animal. 
Dr. Thundertone admired Sir Timothy extremely. 
The admiration was mutual, only there was a mild, 
a very mild degree of patronage in Sir Timothy’s, 
which the Doctor bore as best he might. Indeed, 
Sir Timothy was not a person to be slighted ; he 
was the centre, or to speak more correctly, the 
great sun of the evangelical world, round which 
lesser luminaries revolved distantly in their re- 
spective spheres. Sir Timothy presided at the 
Bible meetings ; at the anti-Popery meetings ; at 


164 


HORNE-HUR^ST RECTOR Y. 


the Reformation meetings, but had hitherto de- 
clined the Christian Knowledge and Trinitarian 
Societies, because his Socinian brethren were ex- 
cluded from a participation in their privileges and 
interests not that he approved of Socinianism ; 
for Sir Timothy and his family had always been 
extremely orthodox. When his ancestors, the 
Oddfishes, first found themselves on dry land, they 
made a strong determination thenceforth to run no 
risks of future submersion, and they adhered nobly 
to their determination. Consequently, the ancestral 
estates did not pass into other hands at the glori- 
ous Reformation. The Tadpoles required no Re- 
formation, for during the ascendancy of what the 
village schoolmaster called the three great P's, (Dr. 
Pusey was not alive at this time or he might have said 
four,) Paganism', Protestantism and Popery, they 
continued in a state of Reformation, alternating be- 
tween the two latter P's, as circumstances required. 
So the Tadpoles were a most respectable, and are 
at present a most evangelical and numerous family. 

Sir Timothy was in high good humor; he had 
been paid a great many compliments at the meet- 
ing, and was told that from a child he had known 
the Scriptures " like his namesake the great apostle, 
though he had an advantage which the apostle was 
not favofed with, he lived in the light of the glori- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


165 

ous nineteenth century — that age of knowledge and 
unfathomed wisdom. Moreover, as he himself plea- 
santly related, when it came to his turn to compli- 
ment Dr. Thundertone, his mother, the lately de- 
funct Lady Tadpole had made him learn the whole 
of the New Testament by heart, an advantage not 
conferred on St. Timothy for the very sufficient rea- 
son that the New Testament was not all written in 
his time. How sad for those,'' exclaimed the chair- 
man, pathetically, who existed before the written 
word was diffused throughout the world, as it now 
is by means of our glorious society!" Sir Timothy 
sat down amid loud cheering, with a happy con- 
sciousness of having done his duty, and of having 
said something worth hearing ; a consciousness not 
always enjoyed by noble lords or viscounts on such 
occasions. 

No ; Sir Timothy did not approve of Socinianism ; 
— personally, he thought it was wrong, but his belief, 
his great belief, was in the Bible ; as to the facts 
and doctrines it contained, of course, libert}^ of con- 
science required that every one should exercise his 
own view of the case ; and if the Socinian did not 
believe that the apostle meant what he said, when 
he declared that the Word was made flesh, and 
dwelt amongst us," the Quaker surely had an equal 
right to his opinion in regard to our Divine Lord's 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


1 66 

own words concerning baptism, which certainly 
are as explicit: ‘‘Unless a man be born of water 
and of the spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom 
of Heaven but the Quaker conscientiously believed 
that water did not mean water, and that baptism 
was purely a figurative expression, and so the So- 
cinian had an equal right to interpret the words of 
inspiration as he pleased. 

Katie sat beside the honorable baronet at dinner. 
Lady Rossmore glanced across the table now and 
then to see how matters were progressing, and 
once or twice was so absent that Dr. Thundertone 
and “ the lion '' almost suspected the cause. 

Sir Timothy was a widower, and a comparatively 
young man ; and her ladyship, who appreciated a 
title, had a small private maternal speculation, which, 
however, she took good care not to impart to her 
daughter, as she had sufficient penetration to know 
that such an indiscretion would effectually and 
speedily mar all her plans. Her glances, however, 
satisfied her that matters were going on favorably. 
Sir Timothy was most attentive, and Katie evi- 
dently interested in his conversation ; she looked 
very pretty, too, and the dress and jewels became 
her so well, that Lady Rossmore could not but con- 
gratulate herself on the prudence and foresight that 
prompted the present. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, ^ 


167 

I am really sorry you were not at the meeting, 
Miss Rossmore ; we have not had such an interest- 
ing one for a long time; indeed, I might say, for 
years/' ^ 

Katie bowed an apology for her absence, and ex- 
pressed her regret at the loss she had endured as 
best she might. 

Most interesting, indeed," continued the baro- 
net ; it was the first appearance in public of that 
gentleman," glancing to the lion," and the sen- 
sation when he rose to address the meeting was 
tremendous." 

May I enquire his name ?" replied Katie ; mam- 
ma said something about a foreigner, a converted 
priest, I think ?" 

‘‘ Exactly so, my dear young lady. 1 assure you I 
never felt so touched, so impressed in my life as when 
he told, in his broken English, the tale of his sor- 
rows and wrongs. Imagine, Miss Rossmore, imagine 
that he had never even seen a Bible, and scarcely 
knew there was such a book in existence until 
last year. He was travelling then in the north of 
Italy, for his health, I believe, as, on account of some 
little annoyance with his superior, he had left his 
convent. An English lady was providentially in the 
same conveyance, and, noticing his dejected manner 
and clerical appearance, resolved to enquire the 


1 68 HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 

cause. The result was that she gave him a Bible in 
his own native tongue. He promised to read it, and 
call on her next day. He arrived punctually at the 
moment appointed, but it would be impossible for 
me to describe the raptures in which he expressed 
himself. He declared he had spent the whole night 
on his knees devouring the contents of the precious 
volume. His conversion, indeed, was almost instan- 
taneous, but his dread of the consequences was 
pitiable. He said he dared not act on his convic- 
tions if he remained in Italy, and implored Mrs. 
Green and her husband to take him to England. 
They at once consented ; and at great inconvenience 
to themselves, prepared for immediate departure. 
I assure you. Miss Rossmore,’' continued the baro- 
net, energetically, the whole affair was most provi- 
dential. They had scarcely arrived in England 
when they heard that the police were making ac- 
tive search for the unfortunate Padre, and indeed it 
seems almost a miracle how he escaped, for it has 
been ascertained since, that from the very day he 
left his convent, active measures were taken for his 
apprehension, and no doubt his superior was alarmed 
that a person of his enlightened views should be at 
liberty even for an hour.’' 

Well, thank God, he is safe and free now !” re- 
plied Miss Rossmore, gazing with no little interest 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


169 

on the subject of their conversation, who was talk- 
ing, or trying to talk, of his sorrows and wrongs, 
in very bad English, to Captain Hellier, who was 
placed beside him at dinner. 

‘‘ But I have not told you the best part of the 
story,” continued the baronet, charmed at having 
such an attentive listener. I suppose you are 
aware that our chapel in Hertford Street is not the 
parochial church. The rector is a Mr. Langdale, a 
high Tractarian, and, only imagine his imperti- 
nence ! Of course, no one would think of asking 
him to a Bible-meeting ; but it seems he was in the 
crowd, and, after the Padre had spoken, he came 
on the platform and requested permission to ad- 
dress the meeting. Of course, I could not well 
refuse him, as he claimed a sort of right, and was 
very courteous in his manner ; a thorough gentle- 
man, I must say. Well, he spoke, and the end 
and aim of all he said was simply to prove that 
the Padre was an impostor, or, at best, some priest 
who had been censured by his superiors for im- 
proper conduct ; and he actually declared that it 
was impossible his assertion about having never 
seen a Bible before could be true ; for, he said, every 
priest was obliged daily to read large portions of 
Holy Scripture at Mass, besides reciting a great 
deal more in their office ; and added that he could 
8 


170 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


not plead ignorance of the language in which he 
read, as he must know Latin well. There was a 
great uproar and confusion in the meeting, and 
several ladies fainted, as there were loud cries of 
‘A priest in disguise!’ and ‘No Popery!’ and, of 
course, it looked very badly to see a Protestant 
minister, who ought to have received a convert 
from Popery with open arms, actually speaking 
against him, and trying to throw discredit on his 
character. Mr. Langdale, however, kept his ground, 
and insisted that the priest should be asked if he 
had not read the Bible every day when saying 
Mass. The confusion was so great, however, no 
one could be heard ; but I think the Padre (I really 
have not quite got his Italian name — I think it is 
Marchetti) said that he never understood it until 
he met the English lady who had so befriended 
him.” 

“ But how did it all end ?” inquired Katie. “ I 
remember mamma writing to me, just before I left 
Dublin, about Mr. I.angdale, and saying he wanted 
to have Protestant nuns, or something of that sort ; 
and I am almost afraid that the Mr. James, whom 
papa engaged lately as curate, is a relation or a 
great friend of our rector. Mr. Morris left just 
on the very eve of papa’s departure, which obliged 
him to make his arrangements so quickly that I 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


171 

fear he could scarcely have known much of the 
clergyman now at Saytonmere.” 

Most unfortunate, Miss Rossmore ! Most un- 
fortunate ! People can't be too cautious ; there are 
so many Jesuits in disguise now, that really one is 
in constant fear of one's very liberty. However, 
I trust" 

Lady Rossmore had lingered even longer than 
etiquette allowed after the cloth had been remov- 
ed ; but she had just bowed to Mrs. Hellier, and 
the ladies rose simultaneously. She hoped Katie 
had made an impression on the baronet, and, that 
the conversation would be resumed in the draw- 
ing-room. 

But the gentlemen remained a long time in the 
dining-room. The wine was excellent, and it was 
appreciated ; besides, there was a little committee 
of ways and means held then and there for the 
future disposal of the lion, which ended in Sir 
Timothy's declaring that his house should be the 
home of the afflicted, and until Signor Marchetti 
would be appointed to a cure of souls, or chapel, 
proprietary or otherwise, he should remain with 
him — an arrangement in which the lion" humbly 
acquiesced ; and Dr. Thundertone loudly applaud- 
ed the magnanimity of both baronet and lion, and 
had no doubt the spiritual views of the latter 


1/2 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


would progress rapidl}^ in such an enlightened and 
holy atmosphere. 

Dr. Thundertone need not have been anxious ; 
“ the lion’' was extremely enlightened in his views, 
theological and moral, and very spiritual in his in- 
terpretation of Scripture in general, and of the 
Ten Commandments in particular; indeed, rather 
more so, perhaps, than even the learned doctor 
would have approved ; but then great allowance 
would be made for a convert from Popery ; and if 
Signor Marchetti did interpret some of the com- 
mandments in a purely spiritual” sense, and, in 
consequence, had made himself amenable to the 
laws of the land, and was considered by his unen- 
lightened superior to have committed a mortal sin, 
and, having persevered therein, to be in danger 
of damning himself and doing ^serious injury to 
others — what of it ? Was he not a brand snatched 
from the burning ? and who was to know whether 
his conversion had been the result of a sincere 
conviction that Popery was anti-Christ, or of a 
very natural desire to escape the consequences of 
detected crime and to live at his ease in the land 
of liberty ? 

There were a great many ladies in the drawing- 
room when the gentlemen entered. An evangelical 
tea-party was to succeed the evangelical dinner, 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


173 


and all who were not of sufficient consequence to 
be asked to dinner at six/' arrived at eight to 
tea, and bore the humiliation as well as they could. 
•The ladies were formed into groups, and held their 
own little committees and courts judicatory, until 
their fathers, brothers, or other gentlemen-friends 
appeared. There were a few young men, how- 
ever, scattered here and there, who were making 
unsuccessful efforts not to look out of place, and 
who pulled on and off their white kid gloves in a 
manner that would have been highly interesting 
to, and much approved, by the venders of the 
aforesaid articles. T wo ladies, of an indefinite age, 
were talking of dear Mr. Frisk's last sermon ; in- 
deed, they had been both so touched by it, that it 
had required a long private interview in that gen- 
tleman's study, to set their consciences at rest. 
Their niece, whose dear mother, they declared, had 
died in India when they were quite children," was 
conversing with young Hellier on the alarming 
progress that Popery was making in all directions ; 
and wondering how any one could think of immur- 
ing themselves in a convent for life ; how miserable 
they must be, poor things ! Mrs. Hellier was 
watching her husband, as she had always doubts 
about his conducting himself with the degree of 
propriety and gravity essential for an individual of 


174 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


his importance in the evangelical world ; and the 
good Captain liked a merry laugh and an innocent 
jest when he was not awe-struck by the Admiral/* 
as his wife was not unfrequently designated. A 
)^oung officer, who had not been accustomed to 
parties of the species evangelical, was standing 
near the piano, and now approached Mr. Helliei, 
junior, declaring it was ‘^deuced slow,** and en- 
quiring, very naturally and reasonably, when the 
dancing would commence, an array of white 
lace skirts, muslin flounces, low dresses, and short 
sleeves, indicating to any uninitiated individual the 
probabilities of such a termination of the evening. 

Lady Rossmore heard the enquiry, and looked 
unutterable things at the unfortunate offender ; 
while his aunt, Mrs. Hellier, did not confine her 
horror to looks, but openly declared her abhor- 
rence of such an outrageous suggestion. Mr. 
Frisk smiled doubtfully ; but Mr. Slangs, the dis- 
senting minister, who had been invited just to 
show that the Bible Society would exclude nobody^ 
groaned in spirit, and with his one eye did his best 
to awe the delinquent into a sense of propriety. 
Captain Leintaigne was a gentleman ; and, there- 
fore, when he perceived his mistake, he did his 
best to atone for the offence, conducting himself 
during the remainder of the evening with a gravity 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


175 

that all but appeased the offended gods. A little mu- 
sic followed, and the young officer had the felicity 
of hearing I would that my love might silently,'' 
and a few other performances of a sufficiently am- 
atory nature, highly applauded by the individuals 
who had just expressed such a horror of dancing. 

At ten, Mr. Frisk was requested to read a chap- 
ter and expound, which he did, very much to his 
own satisfaction. Mr. Slangs, as a brother in Christ, 
led off the prayer, and uttered several very unc- 
tious petitions for the conversion of ungodly young 
men, which the captain bore with remarkable 
equanimity, the result of a strong resolution, made 
then and there, that he would never again appear 
at an evangelical soir6e ; a resolution which the 
youth never broke to the present hour ; and which, 
we believe, we are safe in assuring our readers, he 
will keep sacredly until his dying day. 

Supper, small talk, and singing followed ; and 
before twelve o'clock, most of the party had dis- 
persed. 




CHAPTER XIII. 

Pray for the living, in whose breasts 
The struggle between right and wrong 
Is raging terrible and strong . — The Golden Legend, 

ADY ROSSMORE did not rise until a 
late hour on Saturday, and, even on Sun- 
day, found herself so fatigued from her 
exertions in the ‘'great cause,” that she was unable 
to attend the morning service. If she was at all 
equal to it, she said, she would go in the afternoon, 
as the communion service was read at three, on 
alternate Sundays, for the benefit of invalids, and 
those who found themselves unable to remain for 
it after morning prayers. 

“ Well, my dear, and how did you like the ser- 
mon?” enquired Lady Rossmore, on her daughter's 
return. “ I think it is the first time you have heard 
Mr. Frisk ; and I am anxious to know )^our opin- 
ion.” 

“ Indeed, mamma, I can scarcely tell. I think I 

(176) 



HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


m 


should prefer Mr. Lions ; Mr. Frisk gives me the 
idea of a person who was saying odd things, merely 
for effect ; but, of course, I could n’t judge from 
one sermon. But, mamma, did you know there 
was to be a confirmation ? It was given out this 
morning ; and it will take place very soon ; in a 
month, I think.” 

Well, my dear,” replied Lady Rossmore, in a 
tone that said as plain as tone could say, What is 
that to you, or to me, either?” 

‘‘ I intend to be confirmed, mamma,” observed 
Miss Rossmore, quietly. 

If Miss Rossmore had informed her lady-mother 
that she intended to go to Lapland in three 
weeks, and then and there to commence a mission, 
for the conversion of the benighted inhabitants ; 
or to make astronomical observations at the south 
pole for the benefit of the Society for the Diffusion 
of Christian Knowledge, her lady -mother might 
have borne the shock with more equanimity. 

Confirmed !” exclaimed Lady Rossmore. ‘‘ My 
dear, what can you mean ? and what will people 
say if you are seen at chapel on Wednesday 
evenings, and attending the confirmation lectures — 
which I suppose Mr. Frisk will give two or three 
times a week ; every one will think you are run- 
ning after Mr. Frisk, and- ” 

8 ^ 


178 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


Then, mamma, you can save them the trouble, 
by informing the lady gossips of Hertford Street 
Chapel, that I am engaged to a gentleman whom I 
both love and respect, and who would despise their 
meanness as thoroughly as I do/' 

And pray, may I enquire the happy individual 
on whom you have bestowed your affections, with- 
out your mother's knowledge or consent ?" 

‘‘ The individual is Mr. Helmore ; and, as I have 
already had my father's full approbation, I consider 
myself free to act as I please." 

Of course. Miss Rossmore, of course ; act as 
you please, as you always have done since you 
were a child ; tutored by your father and your 
grandmother to despise your unfortunate mother, 
God help her ! And now crown it all with an act 
of religious piety ! Very creditable, indeed, very! 
but just what I always expected. If your edu- 
cation had been left to your mother, as it should 
have been, you would not .have acted as you are 
doing to-day ; but no one would listen to me. If 

your poor father had taken my advice " 

Then, mamma, you will be kind enough to 
make my engagement known. If Mrs. Hellier is 
told, it will be sufficient, as I believe there are Dor- 
cas meetings every week, when it will be sure to 
be a prominent subject of discussion ; or, if not, as 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


179 


she is always visiting, a few hours will probably 
suffice to inculcate the important fact. I suppose, 
when it is known, that there can be no objection 
to my attending the confirmation lectures ; though, 
if I may judge from Mr. Frisk's sermon this morn- 
ing, I think that will be scarcely necessary, as his 
principal object seemed to be to show that confir- 
mation was a mere ceremony, and to warn us 
against trusting to lifeless forms. Besides, I hear 
the confirmation will be in the parish church, and 
that we must apply to Mr. Langdale for our tick- 
ets." 

Lady Rossmore's nerves were quite too much 
upset to think of going even to the short service 
in the afternoon. Catherine might do as she pleas- 
ed ; no doubt she would find other society, more 
agreeable than her mother's. So Miss Rossmore 
went alone. 

The peculiar circumstances in which she had 
been placed, even from her very childhood, had 
produced a determination of purpose and ac- 
tion very foreign to her natural character. Na- 
ture had formed her of a softer mould than would 
have been suspected by those who looked not 
beyond the exterior. To trust and to love, and 
to cling with child-like simplicity to those who 
were trusted and loved ; such was her real dispo- 


1 8 o HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

sition. But there are few whose natural characters 
do not alter with the impressions given by circum- 
stances over which they have no control ; few who 
stem the torrent in comparison with the multitude 
who float with the stream ; and of the strong- 
willed, fewer still, whose souls do not bear deep 
impresses of the very force they have successful!}^ 
resisted, so deep and vivid, that often, to the casual 
observer, they seem to bear those very character- 
istics whose impressions they have ceaselessly with- 
stood. 

“ Mr. Langdale is not at home, ma’am,'’ replied 
a servant, who answered Miss Rossmore’s rather 
timid ring at that gentleman’s door. 

Katie looked distressed and perplexed. She had 
made a very bold effort that morning, and had 
nerved herself for an interview with the Tractarian 
rector, whom she dreaded almost as much as if he 
had been, in truth, that bugbear of the evangelical 
world, a Jesuit in disguise.” She was turning 
away, sadly, and feeling as if she could never sum- 
mon courage enough to call again, and must even 
give up the hope of being confirmed, to a future 
period, when the unusual sound of wheels on the 
pavement attracted her attention. 

That is Miss Langdale, ma’am. I will ask her 
when master will be back.” 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. I g I 

But, almost before the servant had time to make 
the inquiry, a respectable man, who wheeled the 
low chair, had lifted its occupant gently in his arms 
and laid her on a seat in the hall, evidently prepared 
for the purpose. 

Katie looked with no little surprise and some- 
thing more than common interest at her frail form 
and sweet, patient face. Then, feeling as if her 
presence must be an intrusion, she was about to 
turn away, even more sadly than before. 

Martha, do ask the young lady to stay. If she 
wishes to see papa, he will be at home in a few 
minutes.’' The voice was even sweeter than the 
face, but there was a tremulousness in its tone, 
that told of pain long, and yet patiently, suf- 
fered. 

I fear I am intruding,” said Katie, advancing 
timidly ; “ but I do wish to see Mr. Langdale very 
much. It is about the confirmation.” 

‘‘ If you will go into the parlor — Williams will 
carry me in— there is a fire there, and when papa 
comes he will see you in his study. I am afraid you 
have got quite cold waiting,” continued Miss Lang- 
dale ; it is so early for you to be out.” 

Katie did not reply ; for tears, unbidden and un- 
welcome, had gushed into her eyes. So young,” 
she murmured, ‘‘ and in such evident suffering, and 


i 82 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


yet so apparently unconscious of herself, and full ot 
thought for others ! 

As the servant placed her in the chair, some little 
awkward movement provoked a momentary ex- 
pression of pain. ‘‘ I beg your pardon, Martha,*' 
she whispered, softly ; ‘‘ I am so sorry to be impa 
tient when I give you so much trouble and then, 
stretching out her hand to Katie, she gently invited 
her nearer to the fire. 

How you must suffer!" exclaimed Catherine, 
and her eyes again filled with tears. Excuse me, 
Miss Langdale, but I had a little sister once, and 
some way you remind me so strangely of her; and 
yet there is no likeness," she continued, to herself, 
‘‘ and did not suffer such pain as this." 

Ethel had caught the last words, and Katie heard 
her whisper, softly : But He suffered more — oh, 
my God, and there was none^to pity Him 1 " 

Katie thought it strange ; but, as she supposed 
her companion intended to address her, she replied : 

Ah ! then, you had a brother, and was he, too, 
such at sufferer ? " 

Again she spoke, but rather as if answering her 
own thoughts : 

“ Father thou art to me, and brother, too, ^ 

And more than brother still — ” 

At this moment, the sound of footsteps in the 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 1 83 

hall, preceded by a loud ring, announced Mr. Lang- 
dale's return. Katie’s heart beat violently ,,and for a 
moment she almost regretted the step she had taken. 
What would Mr. Langdale say, and how would he 
receive her? A few moments more, and she found 
herself seated in his study. 

One of my parishioners, I think?” he said, ex- 
tending his hand, kindly, as Catherine entered his 
study. The words, and the tone in which they 
were spoken, said as plainly as w^ords and tone 
could say, You have a claim on my time and at- 
tention, and I will pay you to the full.” 

Katie was naturally shy and timid, but constant 
intercourse with the world, and the peculiar cir- 
cumstances of her past life, had given her a deter- 
mination of manner and appearance which often 
helped her through difficulties. But now her cour- 
age, real or apparent, had forsaken her. She look- 
ed helpless, and scarcely knew wffiat to say. Mr. 
Langdale saw her difficulty, and felt for it. He 
was about to speak again, but she recovered herself 
a little, and in a stiff, unnatural manner told the 
object of her visit. Any one, who had not studied 
the strange phases and developments of human 
feeling, would have thought her cold and proud, 
but the rector was not one to judge rashly or 
lightly ; he saw enough to interest him very deeply. 


HORNE-HURST'RECTOR K 


184 

More than an hour had passed, and still Katie sat 
in the cold, dark study. There were traces of sor- 
row, not to be mistaken, on the young face, and 
there was a more than common thoughtfulness on 
the brow. 

Mr. Langdale had seen it all at a glance. There 
was a look of seeking rest and finding none f a 
look which had of late become very familiar to him ; 
a look, which, could the gazer have seen beyond the 
well-disciplined surface, might have been found 
graven in burning characters even on his own soul. 
The one sought for rest from suffering; and who, 
that is loved by Him whose life was one long 
agony, will find that rest on earth? The other, 
walking in a dim land, and as yet seeing but dark- 
ly, sought the rest even in suffering, but knew 
not that suffering unhallowed by sacramental grace 
will but add to the unrest of the weary sufferer. 

‘‘Then, you will come again, and very soon, too, 
I hope. Miss Rossmore?” said Mr. Langdale, as 
she rose to leave. 

“Yes, very soon,'' replied Katie; “that is, unless 
mamma is annoyed, as, indeed, I fear she will be. 
But even if she is, Mr. Langdale, I think I must 
come, though I am often obliged to keep her in 
ignorance of my movements for peace sake." 

“ Better not, if it can be avoided, my child. Per- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 185 

haps, if I called on her it would smooth the way 
for your visits here. I think they will need to be 
frequent, perhaps more so than you anticipate,'’ he 
added, with a smile of peculiar meaning. If Ethel 
sees you, I suspect she will often claim your charity 
in cheering her lonely hours." 

Oh, but I have seen her ! " exclaimed Katie, en- 
thusiastically. I never saw any one* like her, she 
is so, so " — . Spiritual, she was going to say, but 
the word seemed misapplied in the sense in which 
she intended it. “ I mean, she seems so unlike 
ordinary people. I would love to be with her ; 
and how patient she is with all her suffering! " 

‘‘I hope you will not tell her so," replied Mr. 
Langdale. 

‘‘ Why not — surely she must know it already?" 

Mr. Langdale did not answer, but Katie saw the 
same peculiar smile on his face again. It provoked 
and attracted her. What could it mean? It looked 
like saying, ‘‘ Never mind, you will understand all 
this some day." Her pride was a little hurt at 
the implied imputation of ignorance, and her curi- 
osity aroused as to the hidden meaning. 

But, about your mother," resumed the rector, 
almost as if he were thinking aloud. Yes, I sup- 
pose it will be best to call on her. She is a parish- 
ioner, and it is only duty. What matter for the 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


1 86 

pain of a repulse, and it can do no harm, however 
I may be received/' 

The next day, Mr. Langdale paid his proposed 
visit, and was more graciously received than he had 
expected. At first, he felt inclined to doubt Miss 
Rossmore's account of her mother, and her domes- 
tic trials ; but he was a man of keen observation, 
and Lady Rossm ore's real character was soon 
fathomed. 

‘‘ Better an open enemy than a false friend ! " he 
exclaimed, as he turned from the house. That 
w'oman would be a pagan with Caesar, and a Chris- 
tian with Constantine. No earnestness, no reality ; 
the hollow politeness of good-breeding, and, unless 
I judge her gravely in the wrong, not one spark of 
the true heart-kindness of a sincere follower of the 
gospel precepts; and yet who can blame her? A 
bud of charity there must once have been, for bap- 
tismal grace is never given in vain ; and yet, where 
there is no culture to expand and cherish it, how 
can we expect flowers, or hope to see fruit unto 
eternal life." 

The confirmation day came and went, as other 
days more eagerly expected will come and go. 
Ethel was confirmed, too ; and Katie remained by 
her side during the ceremony. A strong tie had 
been formed between them ; and, though Miss 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


187 


Rossmore was several years older than the invalid, 
it seemed, in their intercourse, as if it were the re- 
verse. But does not suffering always add to years ? 

Christmas had come, and Catherine Rossmore 
was now a regular attendant at the parish church. 
Her mother had done her best to dissuade her, 
and Mrs. Hellier had already announced to the 
public generally, that Miss Rossmore was about to 
be received into the Romish church, perverted by 
that awful Jesuit in disguise, Mr. Langdale. She 
knew he was one, at all events ; for Sir Timothy 
Tadpole had seen a person so exactly like him, 
selling soda-water in the streets of Weymouth a 
few years before, that there could be no doubt of 
the identity. It was just what those Jesuits always 
did — they never remained long at the same occu- 
pation ; unless, indeed, there was some very special 
mischief to be done. 

When Mr. Langdale first heard the story, he 
laughed heartily. But when Dr. Thundertone 
proclaimed the fact*' at a public meeting in his 
own parish, he thought it right as publicly to con- 
tradict it. But he might have saved himself the 
trouble ; he was a Jesuit in disguise — at least. Sir 
Timothy said so ; and what Jesuit ever spoke a 
word of truth ? Could he not get absolution for it 
from his superior? Catherine Rossmore maintained 


i88 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


an indignant silence through the whole aflFair ; they 
might as well have said she was a Jesuit in dis- 
guise, and with equal veracity maintained their 
assertion, and disbelieved her refutation. Having 
once disowned the charge, and proved its impossi- 
bility, Mr. Langdale wisely took no further notice 
of the matter. What was the use in appealing to 
the reason of individuals who had none — or of prov- 
ing facts to those who were prepared and deter- 
mined to deny them ? But, as we once before 
observed. Dr. Thundertone was not easily abashed, 
and consoled himself by adding to the calumny at 
his next appearance in public. The story was re- 
tailed with embellishments ; without, however, 
mentioning names. An old lady who was present 
became so nervous on the subject, that she dis- 
charged her footman, butler, and coachman that 
very day ; kept a parlor-maid to attend table, and 
hired a carriage and horses from the nearest livery 
stables when she required an airing, simply and 
solely, as she observed to the learned Doctor, (who 
was her very particular friend,) lest she should 
‘‘be found dead some morning in her bed, mur- 
dered by some of those awful Jesuits.'' And we 
are bound to say that the Doctor did not relieve 
her feelings by lessening her apprehensions. 

“ Oh, Katie, I have got news for you ; such 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


189 


news exclaimed Ethel, one snowy December 
day, when her friend was seated by her low chair, 
and had been made as warm and comfortable as 
could be, after a cold walk. Only think what it 
is ; but you will never guess, so I may as well tell 
you at once. Papa intends to have service on 
Christmas night ! Will it not be beautiful ? There 
is only a week now ; but it has been thought of 
for a long time, and preparations made, though we 
were not sure it could be until to-day ; papa was 
afraid the bishop would object.'' 

Those tiresome bishops !" exclaimed Katie ; 
‘‘ they are always in the way. I really don't see 
what use they are, except to exercise people's pa- 
tience, and prevent them from carrying out any 
good work — but, now, Ethel, don’t look so grave ; 
I am delighted ; and, indeed, you must not be 
angry with me to-day. Do you know it is my 
birth-day ? Mamma forgot all about it, and I 
was so glad ; so I came to enjoy myself with 
you." 

Well, Katie, I suppose I must not look grave, 
as you say ; but, indeed, dear Katie, I wish you 
would not speak so lightly of our ecclesiastical 
superiors ; you know, every power is ordained by 
God, and if we are to obey and reverence the sec- 
ular authorities, how much more should we obey 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


190 

and reverence the spiritual, who are the very rep- 
resentatives to us of God Himself/' 

Now, Ethel, you know that’s all very nice and 
very pretty in theory ; but suppose your bishop 
held Socinian views, or did not believe in bap- 
tismal regeneration, or thought Dr. Thundertone’s 
ordination as good as his own, what would you do 
then ? Would you obey and reverence, or would 
you say, ^ My lord, my opinion is as good as yours, 
and I think you wrong, quite wrong, and, there- 
fore, I cannot reverence you as I would a bishop 
who held my own views ?’ ” 

Nay, Catherine dear, you are pushing the case 
too far. No bishop would hinder you from hold- 
ing right doctrines, though they might not agree 
with you.” 

Well, I don’t know,” replied Miss Rossmore ; 

I am weak enough, or wicked enough, to wish 
we had more unity in our belief. Why, Ethel, 
what was the drift of all your papa’s catechetical 
lectures before the confirmation — were they not 
simply and solely to show us that the prayer-book 
and the articles differed as widely in doctrine as 
Rome and Geneva ; and that we were to follow 
the prayer-book, and to ignore the existence of 
the articles as ‘ unnecessary for the laity ?’ Now, I 
suppose there are some bishops who hold your 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 


I9I 

papa’s idea ; but I know there are a great many 
who hold Mr. Frisk’s ; and I am told his instruc- 
tions were principally a caution against Popery in 
general, and your papa in particular. Now come, 
Ethel, be honest ; would you obey a bishop who 
held those views, and consider him as the ^ very 
representative of God himself?”’ 

Ethel looked perplexed and distressed, and Katie 
feared she was weary. You are tired, Ethel, 
darling, and I had no business to worry you with 
my nonsense. Come, tell me about the midnight 
service ; or shall I read to j^ou awhile first ?” 

No, Katie, I am not tired ; I was only thinking ; 
and I do think so — for hours and hours, sometimes 
when every one is asleep. I wish I could know, I 
wish I could be sure,” she murmured, half to her- 
self ; but then Judas Iscariot was an apostle, and 
yet he was wicked.” 

Katie saw the drift of her mental argument, and 
almost laughed out : No doubt our Reverend 
Father in God will feel highly flattered at the com- 
parison. But, Ethel, must we not distinguish be- 
tween false doctrine and a wicked life ? From all 
you tell me, a Catholic priest or bishop might be a 
very wicked man ; but he would not teach any 
doctrine which was not received by his church ; 
the moment he did he would cease to be a true 


192 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


Catholic, and would not be allowed to preach, un- 
til he had retracted his error ; and how different it 
is with us, when there are scarcely two clergymen 
who believe the same thing, and when we hear 
the most opposite doctrines asserted in the most 
positive manner. Since the decision in the Gorham 
case, too, it is worse ; for it appears now that in 
our church, baptismal regeneration, and the full 
value of the Sacrament may be taught in one par- 
ish ; while, in another, the people may be told that 
baptism is a mere ceremony, very edifying, per- 
haps, but still only a ceremony, which leaves the 
child neither better nor worse than before.'’ 

Ethel looked still more distressed. Katie,” she 
replied quickly, we must not talk of this ; papa 
does not like it, and Dr. Humbletone has positive- 
ly forbidden it ; he says women and children can- 
not understand these questions ; and how can we, 
when they perplex older and wiser heads than ours ? 
Depend upon it, Katie, our strength must be in 
quietness, and in obedience to those appointed to 
guide us ; in this, at least, let us be children.” 

Well, perhaps you are right, Ethel; you have 
thought of these things much longer and more 
deeply than I have done ; but it still seems true 
that if our salvation depends upon our faith, we are 
personally responsible for it ; and that it will be 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


193 


no excuse for us at the Last Daj to say we did not 
inquire when we were in doubt, because we were 
forbidden to do so by our spiritual guides ; and this 
at a time when they themselves disagree wildly on 
the most important subjects. Surely even women 
and children must have some personal responsibil- 
ity in a matter of such serious moment/’ 

As Catherine spoke she took up a prayer-book 
which lay on the table, and opened it almost with- 
out a distinct consciousness of what she was doing ; 
her eye fell on the XIXth Article : '' As the Church 
of Jerusalem, Alexandria, and Antioch have erred; 
so, also, the Church of Rome hath erred, not only 
in their living and manner of ceremonies, but also 
in matters of faith,” 

‘‘ O my God !” she murmured, what is truth, and 
where is it to be found ? If the Church of Rome 
hath erred in matters of faith, is the Church of Eng- 
land a safer guide, when it expressly declares that 
‘ General Councils may err and have erred,’ and 
when it gives us no better or surer test to try their 
decisions than an appeal to Scripture, which may 
be interpreted so many ways ?” 

She looked at Ethel, but the young girl seemed 
almost unconscious of her presence. Her eyes 
were closed, and her head bowed upon her breast. 
Evidently her thoughts were far from time and 
9 


194 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


space, and had soared awa}^ to a region of love and 
peace be3^ond the reach of human misery and strife. 
A faint smile played on her thin lips like a breeze 
stirring the rich blossoms in a field of summer flow- 
ers. She murmured to herself: 

“ Show me the way that leadeth unto Thee ; 

Though it be difficult, Thou art all might ; 

Though dark, Thou art Thyself the living light.” 

‘‘ Yes,'' she continued: 

“ Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee ; 

E’en though it be a cross 
That raiseth me. 

Still, all my cry shall be — 

Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee. 

Though like a wanderer. 

My sun gone down. 

Darkness comes over me. 

My rest a stone ; 

Still, in my dreams I’d be 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee.” 

‘‘ These last verses are very beautiful, Ethel ; 
where did you get them ? I know they are not in 
j^our favorite Christian Year." 

Ethel started slightly. She was not conscious of 
having spoken aloud. Her life had been a solitary 
one, and very full of suffering ; such suffering that 
often its only alleviation was to lie still and motion- 
less for hours and hours. This had given her a 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


19s 


habit of murmuring hymns to herself ; it soothed her 
when she was unable for more active mental exer- 
tion, and also had made her often forget the pres- 
ence of others when she was with them, and for a 
time seem absorbed in her own thoughts. 

‘‘ Are they not very beautiful she said, when 
roused by Katie’s question. ‘‘They are from an 
old Methodist hymn book that poor mamma was 
very fond of reading. Poor mamma ! Oh I wish 
you had known her, Katie; how you would have 
lov^ed her! When I think of her, it seems like 
thinking of heaven, she was so beautiful and so 
good. 

“ Is she long dead ?” inquired Miss Rossmore, 
smothering a sigh ; she feared Ethel would lose 
herself in a reverie once more. 

“ Seven long, long years. I was just ten, and 
now I am just seventeen. How well I remember 
it! Papa had only just begun to be High Church 
then, and so mamma was spared all the perplexi- 
ties and trials that have been since. Oh, it was 
well for her! She died so happy ; almost the last 
words she said were, ‘ Nearer, my God, to Thee, 
nearer to Thee.’ She was very anxious about my 
brother Henry; he had just entered the army then ; 
but I think this was almost the only trouble she 
had. Her life was a very peaceful one, and her ill- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


196 

ness short and not painful ; indeed, she often thanked 
God that she had had a life so free from sorrow ; 
and now it seems so strange to think that, after all, 
a life without the cross can scarcely be a life of 
great sanctity. But you will scarcely agree to this, 
Katie.’' 

No, indeed, Ethel ; I must plead guilty to an 
attachment to ‘comfortable doctrines;' and I sup- 
pose as they are approved by our Mother Church, 
I am safe. I admire the evangelical principle ex- 
tremely of enjoying the good things of this life, and 
denouncing as Popish all and every species of self- 
mortification, of course joining thereunto a ‘ com- 
fortable assurance ' of eternal salvation for ourselves 
and all but the aforementioned Papists, who, by 
common consent, are consigned to an uncomfort- 
able region which shall be nameless." 

Katie appeared to speak in jest, but there was a 
bitterness in the tone of her voice which told of 
scorn and doubt. In truth, the two speakers were a 
strange contrast to each other in every way. Ethel 
had been trained up and imbued with Puseyite, or, 
if you will. High Church opinions, until they had 
become part of her very nature ; and she shrunk 
like a sensitive plant from anything which appeared 
in the least to cast a slur on what she had been 
taught to call the Church of her baptism. Her 


HORNE HURST RECTOR Y. 


197 


reverence and love for her father was unbounded, 
and until the last year or two she had leaned en- 
tirely on him for support and counsel in her spirit- 
ual life ; but of late Dr. Humbletone had been a very 
frequent visitor in the house ; he was naturally kind- 
hearted, and pitied the acute sufferings of the young 
girl, while he could not but admire the patience and 
resignation with which they were borne. Until 
the unfortunate moment when his acquaintance 
with Miss Dobbs had commenced, many an hour 
he spent beside Ethel’s couch, soothing her with 
holy words, or telling her tales of the martyrs of 
the early Church, and what they had borne for love 
of Christ ; and as the young girl would drink in the 
soul-stirring words, he could not choose but admire 
the spirit triumphing, even in her, over constant 
suffering, and grieve that it was of such a nature as 
precluded her from taking an active share in fur- 
therance of his schemes for the restoration of the 
Anglican Establishment. But during the last few 
months Dr. Humbletone had been engaged in plans 
for his Sisterhood, and so exigent or so attractive 
was Miss Dobbs, that hours and days passed even 
as moments, while engaged in conversing with her. 
Mr. Langdale was, of course, constantly occupied 
with the duties of his large parish and the anxie- 
ties of his position. Holding Catholic doctrine on 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


198 

many points, and ministering in a Church which 
continually protested against Popery, his life was 
necessarily a struggle against the tide, more or less 
painful in proportion to the amount of Catholic 
truth for which he contended. But Ethel, in her 
almost contemplative life, was further advanced 
even than her father ; she was not obliged continu- 
ally to explain her views, to defend them, or even 
to modify them at the command of bishop, church- 
warden, or the congregation ; her life grew she 
knew not how, and all the more because she was 
wholly unconscious of its growth. She believed 
that there was a Church appointed by God to 
teach His people what they should believe ; nor 
could she, in her simple faith, for one moment have 
supposed that He who died to save her, would 
leave her in doubt as to what she must believe in 
order to be saved. It was not until her acquaint- 
ance with Catherine Rossmore that she ever doubt- 
ed for a moment whether the Church of her bap- 
tism ’’ was indeed the infallible guide she had so 
long believ^ed it to be ; but Katie, who 'had been 
educated to question and to argue every point of 
her belief, often startled her painfully ; and yet 
Katie by no means believed as much of Catholic 
truth as Ethel. Until the confirmation she had al- 
ways considered herself an evangelical ; and though 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


199 


she laughed at the follies and vagaries of the party, 
and scorned the petty tyrannies exercised by the 
holders of chapels .of ease (which certainly are no 
chapels of ease -to their unfortunate ministers) over 
the clergymen whom they honored by sitting un- 
der still, she believed that episcopacy was, on 
the whole, the most scriptural mode of church gov- 
ernment; that the prayer-book was a very sound 
form of words ; and, as we have seen, she carried 
her ideas of deference to its intimations so far as 
to seek for herself the ceremony of confirmation, 
which her mother considered a ‘‘ remnant of Pa- 
pacy,'' and her father an ^‘immaterial ordinance." 
Now, however, her thoughts were rapidly turning 
in another direction. Her mind was clear and vig- 
orous, and she could pursue an argument to its ut- 
most bound, or sift a theory with a merciless energy 
that often startled and distressed her more passive 
friend. Ethel knew but little of dissent, and as lit- 
tle of the evangelical world. The Established 
Church was to her the one ark of safety ; all with- 
out was error and confusion. 

Miss Rossmore's experience had been very dif- 
ferent. There was scarcely a form of dissent with 
which she was not acquainted. She had heard the 
Baptist consign his Independent brethren to eternal 
damnation for their “ blindness " in not believing 


200 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


immersion necessary to salvation. She had listened 
to the Independent denouncing the Quaker for his 
wilful rejection of the ‘‘plain words of Scripture/’ 
and refusal to practice any religious ceremony or 
service save that which he supposed to be taught 
or suggested by personal inspiration. In the im- 
mediate neighborhood of Saytonmere the blasphe- 
mies of the Princeites had commenced, and their 
immoralities were still continued ; while, in the next 
town, the Pl3^mouth Brethren contended that they 
alone were the elect of God, the true “ believers ” 
and practicers of the gospel ; and the Starkites pro- 
claimed that they were then in their risen bodies, 
the Day of Judgment passed, and the blessedness 
of the elect consummated. That each and all be- 
lieved in their own personal infallibility was clear, 
else why could they assume that they only had “ re- 
ceived the truth” ? That all could not be right was 
equally clear, since they differed on subjects ac- 
knowledged even by themselves to be matters of 
vital importance. Catherine was sometimes amused, 
and sometimes perplexed, with their varying opin- 
ions, and their perfect confidence of infallibility. 
The Church of England, in which she had been 
educated and baptized, appeared to her as the only 
consistent and unvar^dng authority. It seemed that 
here at least there was consistency and orthodoxy. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


201 


Its ministers discountenanced and denounced dis- 
sent, unless, indeed, at Bible meetings, and on other 
very public occasions, when the presence of their 
dissenting brethren seemed a necessary evil, and 
one which the circumstances of the times obliged 
them to tolerate. But there were creeds definite 
enough to satisfy the most anxious inquirer as to 
its doctrine, practices acknowledged to be venerable 
from antiquity, and sacraments considered gen- 
erally necessary for salvation. Still, her mind, 
unconsciously to itself, sought more and more for 
certainty ; and from the moment she ascertained 
that opinions differed as widely even in the Church 
of England as amongst other forms of Protestant- 
ism, and this on the most important subjects, her 
faith in it was shaken, and she was disposed to 
doubt and question at every step. If it be an open 
question whether baptism regenerates the soul, or 
leaves it sin-stained as before ; if the Articles de- 
clare that the Church has erred and may err in 
matters of Faith,'' and can give no better test of the 
truth of its doctrines than an appeal to Scripture, 
which all may interpret as they please, wherein 
does it differ from dissent } A Quaker, Socinian, 
or Independent, says he is right because he believes 
certain texts of Scripture to have a certain mean- 
ing, on which he establishes his theory. After all, 

9 * 


202 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


this meaning is the ground of his faith, and not the 
text, which is interpreted differently by others as 
conscientious and as learned. If the Scripture were 
the foundation, obviously all would agree, for it 
remains unalterable ; while every sect has been 
founded on its leader’s opinion of the meaning of 
words which already have been interpreted in an 
opposite and contradictory sense. 

After the confirmation, Catherine made up her 
mind to attend the parish church. She perceived 
at once that Mr. Langdale adhered closely to the 
practices and doctrines of the prayer book ; and that 
Mr. Frisk was a dissenter in opinion, while he pro- 
fessed, or was obliged, to be a Churchman in prac- 
tice. Her intercourse with Ethel led her more and 
more to admire all that was ancient and catholic 
in the Establishment; all, in fact, which fear or ex- 
pediency had compelled its Reformers to leave in- 
tact. She heard the decays and shortcomings of 
our times continually lamented, and at last almost 
began to think that a restoration might be accom- 
plished by those earnest men who were striving to 
recall the past and reanimate the present. It was 
her only hope, and as such she clung to it tena- 
ciously ; for the idea of forsaking her Church had 
never for a moment entered her mind. Protestant 
ideas of Popery were strong within her ; it was to 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


203 


her a corrupt and fallen Church ; and she knew not 
yet that all she admired and loved in the Angli- 
can Establishment had been taken from that very 
Church, and that all she lamented in it had been 
added by those who reformed it. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

“ All are architects of Fate» 

Working in these walls of time.’’ — Longfellow. 

T was Christmas-Eve. We have already 
related how it was spent at Newton- 
hurst rectory ; now let us see how it was 
spent elsewhere. Miss Jemima Dobbs was seated 
in her easy-chair. It was very cold, but she was 
ignorant of that fact practically ; though had she 
looked out of her window and contemplated the 
shivering pedestrians, she might have known it 
theoretically. As usual, there was a large Bible 
open near her, and a respectable-sized prayer-book 
in the distance. Her feet reposed on a velvet 
cushion, on which a cross was embroidered very 



204 


HORNE HURST RECTOR Y. 


conspicuously. Miss Dobbs thought it was very 
Catholic, very Catholic indeed, first to have a cross, 
and secondly to have a velvet cushion. Her ideas 
of Catholicity were naturally of the most Protestant 
type, though she was unconscious of this herself, 
and consequently she thought ye Reverend Moth- 
er” (How she longed and feared to claim the title 
of Abbess !) should be surrounded by every luxury, 
(not, of course^ for her own comfort, but) as a mark 
of the dignity of her office. Certainly it was ‘‘ very 
Catholic’’ to have a cross, but Miss Dobbs was evi- 
dently riot aware that Catholics were not in the 
habit of trampling the sign of their redemption un- 
der foot. 

Miss Dobbs had a very fine cambric pocket 
handkerchief in her hand ; this, also, she thought 
very Catholic, f, ^., very suitable for “ ye Reverend 
Mother.” Poor Miss Dobbs ! if she had gone to 
the nearest Catholic convent, and asked to see the 
Reverend Mother’s wearing apparel, she would 
have found it precisely the same as that used by 
her sisters; and probably she would have pitied 
any lady who could thus demean ’’ herself to a 
level with her inferiors. 

But Miss Dobbs’s cogitations, whatever they 
may have been, were interrupted by a very timid 
knock at the door. After a pause of five minutes 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


205 


it was again repeated, and Miss Dobbs then con- 
descended to say Come in.” She was anxious 
for a letter, and suspected it had now arrived, or 
Sister Charlotte would probably have been obliged 
to wait some time longer before receiving permis- 
sion to enter. 

Miss Dobbs had established her sisterhood. 
Finding Mr. Langdale hopelessly unmanage- 
able,” she had retired to a country town where Mr. 
Grant had lately been appointed rector of a large 
parish. Under his auspices and Dr. Humbletone’s 
patronage she commenced Reverend Mother” 
with two sisters, hoping to add to her numbers or 
her dignity as time went on. 

Another sisterhood had also started into being, 
but its superior not having such exalted, or rather 
such Protestant ” ideas as Miss Dobbs, was con- 
tent with the title of Mother Superior and the 
warm affection of the few heroic and devoted women 
who had joined her in this new and anxious enter- 
prise. Mr. Langdale had thought it better they 
should not be in his own parish ; but as Mr. Slings- 
by was ministering in a district church close by, a 
large house was taken as near his church as possi- 
ble, and there the great work began. There was 
an uncommon bustle and excitement in the estab- 
lishment that day. Midnight prayers were to be 


2o6 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


read in St. John’s, as well as at Mr. Langdale’s 
church, and the little party of sisters were eagerly 
preparing decorations. 

It was agreed to have supper before Vespers, as 
they were all to go to Communion ; but some pre- 
ferred taking nothing from their early dinner. 
Miss Langdale left each to her own choice, as she 
observed that the Church had given no directions 
on the subject; and she was too doubtful of her 
own judgment to decide the matter herself. At 
last the long-expected hour approached, and the 
bell summoned the congregation to the reading of 
Dearly beloved Brethren.” But though the sis- 
ters were well prepared for the scene that awaited 
them, for a moment they started with amazed joy 
and surprise on entering the lofty and beautiful 
church. The space round the communion table 
was one blaze of light; four or five massive cande- 
labras, each containing a hundred large waxen ta- 
pers, were shedding their rays, not merely on taste- 
fully arranged holly and ivy, but on the richest 
and rarest flowers. Camellias of faultless bloom 
mingled their scentless beauty with wreaths of the 
sweetest violets. The words Emmanuel — God 

with us ” were formed in white camellias, and 
placed on the wall, behind the communion table. 
Even in daylight, the gold and brilliant colors, with 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


207 


which it was adorned, looked exceedingly well ; but 
now the reflection of the lights and the other deco- 
rations, gave the whole chancel the appearance of 
a fairy scene. Exactly as the clock struck eleven, 
a troop of boys, all clothed in white surplices, and 
headed by Mr. Slingby and five or six clergymen, 
proceeded in procession to the stalls, where the 
prayers were read. So thrilling and new was 
the effect, that when the service commenced with 

‘ Oh come, ye faithful 

to the old Adeste fideles, more than one head was 
bowed almost to the earth, and low but stifled sobs 
were heard all around. It was nearly two o’clock 
before the service was concluded, and almost 
three ere the sisters reposed in the curtained re- 
cesses formed in each room as a substitute for 
cells. 

Catherine Rossmore had attended a similar ser- 
vice at Mr. Langdale’s ; but that night was not des- 
tined to be one of rest for her. Even while her 
betrothed and his sister conversed, as we have 
seen, ©f future hopes and fears, the object of their 
deepest interest trembled like a storm-bent flower. 
A new chord had been touched, but its music was 
plaintive and tremulous. Now she slowly paced 
her room, and looked as she had never looked at 


2o8 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


the comforts it contained. Had He no place of rest 
but a stable ? Did He shiver in the midnight cold ? 
Was He despised and neglected by the souls He 
had come to' save? Why did all this appear so 
new, so real ? Christmas after Christmas had passed 
before, and yet it only seemed a time at which peo- 
ple ought to have more enjoyments, more self- 
gratification ; costlier dress for its gay revels, and 
richer fare for its sumptuous entertainments ; but 
what had been His dress, and what His fare? 
Then she lifted the heavy curtains that concealed 
the midnight skies, and excluded the least breath 
of midnight air, and gazed upon the star-studded 
sky. Why were the angels not there, and why did 
she not see them ? Ah ! they had been there on a 
Christmas night long since ; and yet it was but few 
whose eyes were opened to that celestial vision, 
whose ears had been permitted to hear celestial 
sounds. Might it not be so even now? If Jesus 
were again to be born in Bethlehem of Judea, how 
many of those who profess to believe in Him would 
sacrifice their comforts or their pleasures to give 
Him a better home. The poor — yes, that was a 
comfort, she would do what she could for them ; 
she would go to Mr. Langdale to-morrow, and ask 
him about it ; he had said to-night that charity to 
them was the true, the only test of love to Him who 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


209 

for our sakes had become poor, that we through 
His poverty might be enriched. 

It was late in the morning before she awoke from 
the few hours' troubled sleep which followed her 
midnight musings. She hastened down as rapidly 
as possible, but Lady Rossmore was already in the 
breakfast-room ; of late she had risen to that meal. 
Poor Katie could hardly repress her tears when 
she remembered last Christmas morning. Her 
father was then at home ; what would she not have 
given for one hour’s conversation with him ! It 
was so impossible to write all she now felt, still 
harder to explain all she suffered. 

The post had come in, and a package of letters 
lay near her. There was one expected and treas- 
ured from Newton-hurst ; another from Mrs. 
Burke ; and one which she left to read last, as the 
vrriting was unknown to her, and she concluded 
it was a bill or circular. Breakfast was nearly con- 
cluded before it was opened ; but even Lady Ross- 
more started with painful surprise as she saw 
Catherine’s cheek grow paler and paler as she read. 

My dear, what is the matter? You know I can- 
not bear suspense, my nerves are so weak.” There 
was a tone of fearful calmness in Catherine’s reply. 

Mamma, it is from Naples ; papa is dying!” 


CHAPTER XV. 


“Which to obey, that is the question, 

When one’s near Geneva, the other near Rome ; 
And if day after day they start a new doctrine, 
Must my conscience follow wherever they roam V 


T was the Feast of St. Thomas, Apostle 
and martyr, and Dr. Humbletone had 
not returned from the evening lecture at 
St. Edgar’s church, where he had been preaching 
a panegyric upon that apostle, and upon himself. 
Doubtless there were great unction and grace in the 
reverend doctor’s sermon, as he had already been 
requested to publish the manuscript from which he 
had read. His text was taken from the gospel for 
the day : Blessed are they that have not seen, and 
yet have believed.” And the preacher had strongly 
and eloquently insisted on the necessity of his hear- 
ers believing a great deal that they did not under- 
stand ; which, doubtless, was very right and proper, 
and simply what they did every day consciously or 

unconsciousLy, in matters temporal and spiritual. 

( 210 ) 



HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


2II 


But he had implied what was by no means so ob- 
vious, that they ought to believe without question- 
ing whatever he told them, because he was the 
spiritual guide appointed for their instruction by 
the Church of their baptism/' 

Our friend Dr. Thundertone had also been a min- 
ister of the Church by law established ; and he 
would have said, if he had been there, that Dr. 
Humbletone was a Jesuit in disguise, a wolf in 
sheep’s clothing, and a teacher of false doctrine. 
How would the audience have ascertained which 
of these ministers of the Church of their baptism 
was the safest guide? Possibly they would have 
used their own private judgment on the subject ; 
and as the majority were of the High Church party, 
would have agreed with Humbletone, and con- 
demned Thundertone. In this case, doubtless, the 
former would have considered them justified in 
so doing. But he was usually very strong on the 
necessity of obeying their appointed teachers ; ot 
receiving the truth without questioning ; in fact, 
of believing implicitly whatever he told them, and 
not asking to know more. Doubtless were Dr. 
Humbletone as infallible as he believed himself to 
be, they would only have acted with common pru- 
dence. But what proof had he to give that he 
was more correct in his interpretation of Scripture, 


212 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


Prayer-book, or Articles, than Dr. Thundertone. 
They both agreed on one subject only — their per- 
sonal infallibility. Happy doctors ! if only it can 
be proved that the opposite and conflicting opin- 
ions are equally admissible. 

Mrs. Humbletone was sitting near a large table, 
working. There was an anxious, sorrowful look 
upon her face ; and it appeared as if there was some 
mystery about her employment, as a large white 
cloth covered the material with which her fingers 
were busy. One corner only remained exposed, 
and through this her needle was passing and re- 
passing with that rapidity so perplexing to the un- 
initiated in the mysteries of embroidery. Fanny 
Humbletone was also working, but her employ- 
ment seemed of a simpler kind than her mother’s. 
A long pause had occurred after the doctor’s en- 
trance ; but it was now terminated abruptly. 

Poor Edwards is gone,” observed the reverend 
gentleman, turning to his son. Mr. Campbell Hum- 
bletone started. Gone, sir ; when did he die 

He is not dead to the world, Campbell, but he 
is dead to us and the Church.” The expression 
of pain and sorrow deepened on Mrs. Humbletone’s 
face. 

You mean that he has aposta — ” he was going 
to say apostatized, but somehow the term seemed 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


213 


strangely inapplicable, and he substituted '' gone 
over to Rome.” Young Humbletone was shocked. 
Edwards had been one of his dearest friends, and 
he had wondered as week after week passed by and 
his letters were unanswered. He did not know, 
he never heard, that his father had written to the 
young man the moment he heard of his doubts, 
and feared that he would act on the convictions 
likely to follow, commanding him never again to 
cross his threshold or communicate with his fam- 
ily, and consigning him to the abode of eternal 
perdition if he persevered in forsaking the Church 
of his baptism. Certainly Dr. Humbletone believed 
in his own infallibility ; every dissenting minister 
does so ; but few, very few indeed, anticipate the 
judgments of God, and assure their friends of 
eternal condemnation if they follow their conscien- 
tious convictions. Dr. Humbletone had terrified 
several of his lady friends (penitents he would 
have called them) with his anticipated knowledge 
of their future doom ; but Mr. Edwards, fortunately 
for himself, was not so easily alarmed. The doctor 
knew that the reception of the convert into the 

Catholic Church would be known all over K 

next morning ; but for this he would not have men- 
tioned the subject before his wife. 

Mrs. Humbletone had long been a heavy cross 


214 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


to her husband. What would the world say if he 
was unable to control his own family ; if he on 
whose ipse dixit thousands hung, could not satisfy 
his own wife of his infallibility. Every conversion 
was a fresh terror to both. Mrs. Humbletone re- 
membered the time when her William had wooed 
and won her maiden love. It was thirty long years 
since the indissoluble bond had been formed, and 
she had never regretted it, for the doctor was a 
kind and loving husband. Then, indeed, his views 
had been very different. She had seen the grad- 
ual development of the opinions he now held, and 
knew that twenty years ago he would have con- 
demned them as loudly as Dr. Thundertone, or Sir 
Timothy Tadpole, of anti-Papal fame. She knew 
not only each fresh step, but, with a woman's keen 
perception, she saw, she could not but see, each 
hesitation, each reluctance, to believe more than 
was expedient for the times." His learning she 
did not doubt ; his piety she believed in as much, 
nay even more, than her own; but why did he 
adopt and use devotions from a church whose very 
name he appeared to dread ? Why did he express 
such horror when any of his followers entered the 
very communion from which his own orders were 
derived? If Rome had apostatized, and was in 
error, was England safe ? If its saints, who had 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


215 


worked miracles and lived lives of penance, de- 
serving, even in Dr. Humbletone's estimation, of 
honor and praise, would thank him, in Paradise, for 
correcting the errors of their faith and purging 
their writings of misapprehensions and false doc- 
trine, who could be trusted ? If the surest guide 
might prove at last a wanderer the holiest saint 
might be incorrect, or not sound in some of his 
doctrines, even on vital points ; where, and in whom, 
could an unerring trust be reposed? Could any 
stretch of human love, any amount of woman's 
trust, lead her to the concllision that her husband, 
however learned, however pious, was the sure 
guide who would not fail, the infallible doctor 
whose sentence could not be erroneous ? 

Truly, it was a perplexing question, and, when 
salvation hung upon its issue, something more. 

Dr. Humbletone's opinions had changed on the 
most important subjects within the last twenty 
years. It is true, his wife believed as he did now ; 
but she continually asked herself what authority 
had he for thinking that his private judgment in 
1820 was more correct than his private judgment 
in 1840? It is true, he argued that now he believed 
what the Church taught, and that the Church was 
infallible ; therefore, he must be so ; but Mrs. 
Humbletone had read the Articles and studied 


2i6 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


them, and she knew the Church of England ex- 
pressly disclaimed infallibility, and she knew, more- 
over, that there were scarcely three of its ministers 
who agreed as to what its doctrines really were ! 

The entrance of a servant, with a telegraphic 
message for Dr. Humbletone, interrupted her mus- 
ings. He started up, quickly, on perusing its con- 
tents, and announced that he must leave by the 
next train for a distant town. 

Mrs. Humbletone looked more than annoyed. 
^‘Indeed, William, this is too bad; you are tired; 
the night is bitterly cold ; why, why, must this 
woman have you perpetually at her call, and 
disturb the peace of a family once, perhaps, too 
happy ? 

'' Mary,’' he replied, sharply ; oh, how bitter 
the words sound after years of kindness! ‘'You 
seem to forget both your duty and mine. I think, 
when a young girl like Miss Dobbs sacrifices her 
time, her health, her money, her youth, to so noble 
a cause, those who are not asked, or who would not 
have courage, for such self-renunciation, might at 
least sympathize with it, and do all they can to 
encourage and support her.” 

“ William, I have borne this long, perhaps too 
long,” replied Mrs. Humbletone, with an energy 
which startled and surprised her husband ; “ but 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, ' 


217 


now, for the sake of my children, yes, and for your 
sake, too, I will speak. You know, William, that I 
have the object in which Miss Dobbs is engaged as 
deeply at heart even as yourself ; you know I would 
part even with my own children, if God called them 
to so blessed a life; but, William, I can and do dis- 
tinguish between Miss Dobbs' work and her mode 
of carrying it out. Never, never, can I believe that 
these midnight journeys, these sudden messages, 
these long interviews with yourself, are necessary, 
or even right. Can you, or do you, for a moment, 
suppose that they would be permitted, or required, 
in a Catholic sisterhood? Remember, too, that 
Miss Stapleton has told us of this lady's conduct 
toward her sisters. Oh ! William, will you, can you, 
encourage and support her in a system which, in 
the end, must bring disgrace on our revival of 
Catholic practices, and, perhaps, serious scandal 
on yourself? " 

Dr. Humbletone was silent, simply from amaze- 
ment. He had been accustomed to public opposi- 
tion, but it was the first time he had encountered 
it in his own family. 

Mary, you do not know Miss Dobbs, and how 
can you believe the idle stories rumored about her? 
I thought you had a more than ordinary share of 
discernment, and could scarcely be led by every 
10 


2I8 


• HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


gossiping tale. But, however it may be, my duty 
is clear, and I will fulfill it. You know the Humblc- 
tones have the name of being obstinate ; perhaps, 
yow have yet to experience that the imputation is 
not a calumny.'' 

Dr. Humbletone did not reach P until morn- 

ing. He was informed that Miss Dobbs was sleep- 
ing when he arrived, and he begged she might not 
be disturbed. Of late, he had been accustomed to 
a most active and almost restless life, and was sel- 
dom wearied by journeys or circumstances, that 
would have exhausted a person of less physical 
strength, or one who was less inured to such 
labor. 

Several hours passed, and, at length, he was 
summoned to the apartments occupied by the 
“Lady Superior." The morning passed uncon- 
sciously, and it was nearly three in the afternoon 
before he was requested to take some refresh- 
ment. So many subjects had been discussed, so 
many new plans formed, that the doctor had 
actually forgotten to inquire the reason of his sud- 
den summons ; certainly nothing had as yet tran- 
spired that showed any necessity for it. But Miss 
Dobbs had her reasons, though she was by no 
means anxious to manifest them to her reverend 
father. Miss Stapleton's recent departure from 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


219 


the sisterhood had been made public, and certain 
particulars regarding it had transpired, which did 
not tend to raise Miss Dobbs in public estimation. 
She anticipated a newspaper war, if not a still more 
public exposure, and wisely determined that Dr. 
Humbletone should know her version of the case 
before he heard facts as they were. 

I suppose, father, you have heard of poor 
Selina Stapleton, perhaps seen her ? '' she sighed, as 
Dr. Humbletone again seated himself near her 
couch. 

Dr. Humbletone gave an affirmative groan, and 
looked really distressed. 

“ These things give sad scandal, my^ child ; per- 
haps you had better tell me exactly how it hap- 
pened. She was not one of my penitents, you 
know, so I can scarcely expect to hear the truth, 
except from yourself.’’ 

But the very mention of the subject seemed al- 
most too much for the invalid lady, and she leaned 
back on her pillows, apparently quite overcome. 

The desired effect was produced. Dr. Humble- 
tone was more than ever convinced that Miss 
Dobbs was a martyr to the cause, to the people of 
England in general, and to her '‘sisters,” in par- 
ticular. 

“ You know, father,” she said, faintly, “ I am not 


220 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


able to be much with dear children. It is a 
great trial ; but I dare not risk my health, perhaps 
my life. Every time I attempt to join them at 
meals, or in the oratory, I lie fainting for hours 
after. But, perhaps, it would be better even to 
suffer this, even to die, father ; for 1 fear some of 
the sisters may think it is unkind, or that I do not 
think of them. Ah, if they knew the hours and 
hours of anxious thought they cost me ! Midnight 
tolls, and finds me sleepless, while they rest. But 
then, you know, father, they are young, very 
young, and can scarcely be expected to understand 
the cares, the many cares, of an office like mine.’' 
Miss Dobbs paused. She hoped Dr. Humbletone 
would recommend her more earnestly than ever to 
take care of herself, and would more than ever be 
convinced how valuable her life was to the women 
of England. 

‘‘ Ah, yes, yes !” she whispered, in reply to his 
earnest expostulations ; but, dear father, you can 
scarcely know all my difficulties. My children 
understand so little of the religious life ; and you 
know it is only by slow and cautious measures that 
they can be advanced as we would wish. Then 
the work to be done is immense ; the schools, the 
orphanage, the training college for the army, the 
library, the old women’s home, the young men’s 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


221 


club ; each of these I must personally superintend 
and direct, or the most serious mismanagement 
occurs/' 

I thought, my child," interrupted the Doctor, 
anxiously, you were entirely confined to your 
room. I really must request — must positively for- 
bid, such an accumulation of work ; it would kill 
you. Your present illness, I am certain, is the re- 
sult of the over-exertion you had in beginning this 
great work." 

“ I am confined to my room, father, as you sup- 
posed ; but even this adds to my labor. Sister 
Charlotte receives orders from me every day, for 
each sister and each department, and this, as you 
must be aware, is a severe mental exertion, far 
more fatigue than if I could personally inspect all. 

Then there is the house at B , and the house at 

D , both to be directed ; and it is through my 

necessary absence from these places that Selina's 
painful affair occurred. I thought Sister Sophia 
could be trusted ; and, as I perceived some rest- 
lessness about Selina, I wished to give her change 

of scene and occupation, and sent her to D . 

Sophia allowed her to go out alone ; and one day, 
I believe, she met a priest in a poor person's house, 
and entered into conversation with him. The re- 
sult was precisely what might have been expected. 


222 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


Her restlessness increased ; and last week I re- 
ceived a telegraphic message from Sophia, saying 
she had left the house without stating where she 
had gone, or making any apology for her conduct.” 

And so these are the real facts on which such a 
story has been founded. But I believe, my child, 
you have closed the house at D .” 

Miss Dobbs smiled — there was a very peculiar 
expression in her face. Yes ; for the present,” 
she replied, after a moment’s pause. 

And where is Sister Sophia ? Perhaps I ought 

to see her before I return to X . She should 

be strongly cautioned ; as, indeed, they all should 
be ; so much harm may arise from the least indis- 
cretion.” 

Rather, from the least failure in obedience, 
father. If Sophia had been obedient to my direc- 
tions, this would not have happened. It is painful 
to be obliged to say it, even to you, father ; but 
I must ask, nay, I will request earnestly, that you 
will exert all your influence with those under your 
care, and impress on them the necessity of blind 
obedience, of unquestioning submission to my or- 
ders. If this is not done, I must resign my charge. 
Indeed, I am constantly tempted to do so. Only 
for your encouragement and support, and the fear 
that if I fail the work must be forever abandoned. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


223 


and the English Church deprived of the inestima- 
ble advantage of a religious order, I would have 
retired to a life of solitude, far more congenial to 
me than my present responsible and public office.” 

Miss Stapleton had been under Mr. Langdale’s 
spiritual direction. She had long desired to con- 
secrate her life to Him who had given His life for 
her. While still in the bloom of youth, and sur- 
rounded by all that the world could offer to fasci- 
nate and allure, a poetical imagination, and a loving 
heart, she had heard in her inmost soul a voice 
that called her to renounce all earthly love, to 
sever all earthly ties, that she might become more 
like Him who had left the love of his Eternal Fa- 
ther, and the palaces of the celestial court, to save 
cold and heartless creatures, and to win to Himself 
souls who could return Him, in some measure, 
love for love. It did not seem to her that she was 
making a sacrifice ; it was but an aot of love. If 
she renounced home and earthly friends, had He 
not done far more ; and was she not promised a 
hundred-fold even in this present life ? Her en- 
trance into the Protestant Sisterhood was a nine 
days’ wonder ; but as she was an orphan, and pos- 
sessed of an independent fortune, there was no one 
to oppose her wishes, except her only sister, who 
had lately married the curate of a fashionable wa- 


224 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


tering place. As both were of the High Church 
party, and intimate with all its leaders, they were 
unwilling to place serious obstacles in her way ; 
and, indeed, Mr. Walters could hardly help ad- 
miring a sacrifice he would not have had courage 
to imitate. He sighed over the half-heathen state 
of the population around him. But it did not 
occur to him that if he had devoted himself unre- 
servedly to his people, and had chosen a state free 
from domestic cares and anxieties, he might have 
done far more for them than was possible while he 
spent his money on the luxuries of his position, 
and his time in the social enjoyments of ^domestic 
life. Miss Langdale had not commenced her sis- 
terhood when Selina Stapleton wished for the life 
of a Protestant Sister of Mercy ; she had, there- 
fore, no choice but to place herself under Miss 
Dobbs's guidance. She was too earnest and fer- 
vent in her desire, to delay until arrangements 
were made, which seemed so uncertain ; and, more- 
over, she did not doubt that all would be alike, 
wherever she might decide on joining so holy a 
work. Dr. Humbletone had assured her that she 
would see Mr. Langdale frequently, and, of course, 
could be guided by his advice in spiritual matters 
by letter, as she had done hitherto, when absent 
from London. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 225 

A few days after her arrival in , she wrote 

to him. All that she saw only confirmed her in 
her desire to dedicate her life to works of mercy. 

* There were schools to be taught, poor to be visited, 
new prayers to be learned, dail}^ service at the 
parish church, and, more than all, office said several 
times a day by the sisters, in their oratory. 

As yet. Miss Stapleton had not seen the presiding 
genius of the place. Sister Charlotte informed 
her, soon after her arrival, that Miss Dobbs was 
too ill to leave her room. A week passed away, 
and still ‘‘ye Reverend Mother’' did not appear. 
Again Miss Stapleton enquired, and expressed 
serious regret for the long continued illness of so 
important an individual. By degrees she was en- 
lightened, and ascertained that the lady only ap- 
peared at rare intervals. Still, her absence made 
little difference ; the daily routine of prayers and 
duties went on as usual. 

Miss Stapleton had arrived early in the week, 
and wrote to Mr. Langdale immediately. A fort- 
night had now passed, and still she had not received 
a reply. When she expressed her surprise to Sis- 
ter Charlotte, she only obtained an evasive answer. 
When a month had passed, Mr. and Mrs. Walters 
came to see her, and informed her that they had 
written several letters to her, not one of which she 
lo* 


226 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


had received ; they also complained of the delay 
and difficulty of obtaining even this short inter- 
view ; they had written to announce their visit, 

mentioning the day they would be at D . 

But when they called at Hullam Street, they were 
informed Miss Stapleton could not see them, with- 
out a special permission from the Lady Superior,” 
and that she was too ill to be disturbed. For three 
successive days they persevered in their request ; 
and it was not until Mr. Walters declared that he 
would write both to Dr. Humbletone and Mr. 
Langdale on the subject, that they were admitted. 
Miss Stapleton, who was singularly simple and 
straightforward in all her proceedings, was both 
surprised and perplexed ; she could scarcely sus- 
pect a person, in Miss Dobbs’ position, of conduct 
which she would have considered mean and de- 
grading even in an inferior. But a conversation 
with Sister Charlotte, after her sister’s departure, 
did not tend to remove her uneasiness. The de- 
lays in admitting her relatives could not be de- 
nied ; and the excuse given for it was too puerile to 
satisfy an intelligent mind. 

If it is the rule of the house,” observed Miss 
Stapleton, that we are not to see any visitors, 
however nearly related, or to receive any letters, 
let me be told ; I shall then understand that I must 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


227 


either leave the Sisterhood, or submit uncomplain- 
ingly to its regulations. Only let me know, in a 
straightforward manner, what our rules are.” 

But Sister Charlotte had been too well trained 
to give a direct answer on any subject. She en- 
larged on the delicacy of the Lady Mother’s ” 
health ; on her virtues and sanctity ; on the duty 
of blind obedience ; and on the necessity of cau- 
tion and secrecy in all that concerned so important 
a movement as the restoration of the religious life 
in the Anglican Church, and after half an hour’s 
conversation, left Miss Stapleton in complete ig- 
norance as to what was, or was not, the rule in 
regard to writing or receiving letters, or seeing 
visitors. 

A fortnight passed away, and she felt each day 
more perplexed and unhappy. There was a mys- 
tery about every one and everything, which seemed 
as unnecessary as it was painful. Some of the 
daily duties were interesting, because they were 
done with a motive of ministering to Christ in the 
person of His poor ; others were irksome or re- 
pulsive, since there was no motive of obedience to 
a definite rule, or lawfully constituted superior, to 
sweeten the yoke. Another week passed, and her 
anxiety became plainly visible. Her countenance, 
always expressive, told even to the most casual 


228 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


observer much of what passed within. One even- 
ing she had just retired to rest, when Sister Char- 
lotte entered her little room, and desired her to 
rise and dress, without a moment's delay, as Miss 
Dobbs wished to see her immediately. So sudden 
a summons, and at such an hour, excited her fears. 
Her first thought was that a serious calamity had 
befallen some member of her family. Her second 
idea was not more consoling ; could the Lady 
Superior intend to send her away, as one unsuited 
for the life of a Sister of Mercy ? But if so, why 
should she choose such a time, and such an hour? 
In a few moments she found herself outside the 
private door, which led to Miss Dobbs’ apartments. 
Sister Charlotte made a sign to her to remain 
there until she returned, and, raising the heavy 
scarlet curtain which covered the entrance, she 
disappeared as it fell, so as to conceal the door 
when opened. An hour passed away, and Miss 
Stapleton had serious thoughts of returning to her 
room, when the sister once more appeared, and, 
after laying down a large tray, containing the re- 
mains of what appeared to have been a substantial 
supper, she motioned to her to enter the apartment. 

With a strangely mingled feeling of fear and 
curiosity, Selina, for the first time, beheld, and con- 
versed with, the self-appointed model and reformer 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


229 


of the women of England. Her personal appear- 
ance was not very pleasing, and there was a cer- 
tain affected gentleness in her manner, which, while 
it attracted and fascinated some of her followers, 
was extremely repulsive to others. Nearly an hour 
passed away, and when Miss Stapleton returned to 
her room, and mused over what had passed, she 
had felt painfully that she had not derived either 
comfort or instruction from the interview. The 
lady superior had listened with apparent interest 
and attention to her account of the motives which 
had led her to embrace her present mode of life, 
and had asked many questions regarding her rela- 
tives, without, however, alluding, in the most dis- 
tant manner, to their recent visit. But not one 
word had been said of a purely spiritual nature, 
beyond the usual recommendation of patience and 
submission to the judgment of superiors. Evi- 
dently, Miss Dobbs’ idea of a perfect religious was 
the popular Protestant idea of a Catholic nun. It 
was not Miss Stapleton’s view of the subject; for, 
unconsciously to herself, her views were more 
simple, and more truly catholic, than those of the 
self-constituted superioress. A week passed away, 
as usual. The sisters had just assembled in the 
room appointed for their short, and not very cheer- 
ful, recreation allowed after their early dinner. 


2 30 HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 

Sister Charlotte entered a few minutes later than 
the rest, and, after making a sign to Miss Stapleton 
to follow her, left the room. 

Dearest mother wishes you to go to by 

the next train. Sister Helen will meet you at the 
station there, and tell you what your work will 
be." 

By the train, now ! " exclaimed Miss Stapleton, 
too much surprised by the sudden command to 
collect her ideas at once. Then, after a moment's 
pause, she continued, It is a journey of some 
hours. How can I travel alone, and so late at 
night ? 

''We come here to obey, not to question, the 
commands of our superior," replied the sister, with 
cold dignity. " The lady superior has, perhaps, 
formed too favorable an opinion of you, for she 
supposed you would feel only too much honored to 
be trusted on such a mission. But," she continued, 
quickly, "the time is passing, so you had better 
hasten, as, if you miss this train, you must remain 
in the waiting-room until the next leaves, which 
will not be for some hours later." 

It was a lonely and painful journey, but the affec- 
tionate greeting of sister Helen at the sta- 

tion promised some little domestic comfort. And, 
after more than an hour's walk through the dirtiest 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


231 


and most unv/holesome streets of , the pedes- 

trians arrived at their destination. The small 
house at which the sister stopped was in no way 
distinguished from its neighbors, either by cleanli- 
ness or comfort. Two small, dirty-looking rooms, 
on the ground-floor, were used respectively as 
kitchen and oratory ; the two above contained 
beds, evidently the worse for use. Miss Stapleton 
soon found that her work would be occasional 
visits to the surrounding poor, while her companion 
generally remained at home, to superintend the 
domestic arrangements. Though at first she had 
been warmly received, sister Helen’s manner soon 
became reserved and almost cold, while the same 
mystery which had been studiously practised at 

D , even on the most trifling occasions, was 

manifest here, and this in a way which would have 
appeared simply ludicrous to any one less painfully 
circumstanced. 

The days passed by with unvarying monotony. 
The lady superior was never mentioned, and Miss 
Stapleton received no letter either from her sister 
or Mr. Langdale. One morning, however, just 
when her anxiety was becoming painfully unbear- 
able, sister Helen left the house earlier than usual, 
desiring her companion not to open the door if 
any one rang. 


232 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


In less than half-an-hour she returned, but in the 
meantime the postman had come, and rang several 
times so violently that Miss Stapleton thought it 
better to answer the summons. A letter was 
handed to her, directed to herself, and, on hastily 
^opening it, she found that her brother-in-law had, 
with great difficulty, discovered her present ad- 
dress, and the fact of her having left D ; and 

now wrote, entreating her to answer the many 
letters her sister had written, and saying that Mr. 
Langdale was extremely uneasy at her long sil- 
ence. 

At first she determined to tell sister Helen that 
she had received the letter, and to express her in- 
dignation at the suppression of her letters ; but, 
finding herself too much agitated and perplexed to 
determine on any definite line of action, she de- 
cided on waiting until the next day, and more 
seriously considering what should be done. It 
happened that she had visited a poor family of 
Catholics ever since her arrival in , and ad- 

ministered to them such temporal relief as she 
could induce her companion to spare from the very 
small sum allotted for that purpose. There was 
something in their quiet and hopeful patience, un- 
der very heavy and accumulated trials, which at- 
tracted and interested her extremely. The subject 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


233 


of religion was seldom mentioned, except in the 
most general manner, yet she could not but see it 
influenced their every action. Her first visit on 
that eventful day was to Lane’s Court. She found 
the poor father suffering extremely from his broken 
limb, while Mary Loyd, their youngest girl, now 
far gone in consumption, appeared so ill that Miss 
Stapleton thought she was already in her last 
agony. 

Mary is very bad to-day, ma’am,” replied the 
mother, in answer to her visitor’s anxious inquiry ; 
“ but I should n’t wonder if she ’d rally a bit by- 
and-by, for Father Hendred is coming to give her 
the last sacraments. May be, ma’am,” she continued, 
hesitating a little as she spoke, ‘‘ may be you ’d like 
to see it, as you don’t seem bitter against our relig- 
ion, like other Protestants?” 

‘‘ I am not a Protestant, Mrs. Loyd,” replied Miss 
Stapleton. I belong to, and believe in, the Holy 
Catholic Church, and profess that belief every day 
when I say the creed.” 

Well, ma’am,” replied the poor woman, ‘H’m 
not learned about such things, only it does seem 
strange why you don’t be in our Church, if you 
belong to it ; for sure there can’t be two true 
churches, and sure ours must be the safest, as it is 
the oldest.” 


234 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


'‘Our Church is a part of yours, Mrs. Loyd, and 
a true branch of the Holy Catholic Church. Our 
priests have derived their orders and authority from 
yours, only we have rejected some errors that you 
hold, and made our Church more like that of the 
primitive ages/’ 

"Well, ma’am, I don’t care for argumentations; 
I never did. But sure on your own showing, you 
can’t be right. If our Church had got into error, 
and wanted to be reformed, there could not have 
been no true Church at all ; for the true Church 
could not go wrong, and if our Church had gone 
wrong, there was no Church, and your priests, as 
you call them, could not have got from us what we 
had not got to give. But, if we were right, ma’am, 
why did they leave us, and make a branch of them- 
selves, as they call it ? Surely, nobody ever heard 
of a branch growing by itself? And yet they say 
one time they are all the same with us and belong 
to us, and next time, that we were all in error until 
they reformed us. Sure, ma’am, there ’s neither 
rhyme nor reason in such talk?” continued the 
good woman, growing eloquent with her subject, 
in spite of her dislike to "argumentation.” "And 
may the Almighty God and His blessed Mother 
give you grace this day to come back to the old 
stock, and to the true Church, that was always one, 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


235 

and never had no branches that did n’t belong to 
it.” 

In spite of her anxieties and the deep interest of 
the subject, Miss Stapleton could scarcely help 
smiling at Mrs. Loyd’s original style of argument ; 
but, just as she was about to reply as best she 
could, Father Hendred made his appearance. Her 
first impulse was to leave the house immediately, 
but it was not easy to do so without appearing 
actually rude. The priest had paused in the door- 
way, and, after briefly inquiring for Mary, turned 
courteously to Miss Stapleton, thanking her for her 
kindness to the sick girl, and begging he might not 
interrupt her visit, as he could only remain a short 
time that morning, having several sick calls to 
make at some distance. 

Miss Stapleton felt very uncomfortable and very 
much perplexed. At first she was inclined to re- 
ply coldly and haughtily, and tried to persuade 
herself that it was an unwarrantable liberty for a 
stranger to address her with so much familiarity. 

Good Mrs. Loyd saw her hesitation, and, though 
she could not understand more than what was ap- 
parent to a casual observer, perceived that, on the 
whole, her visitor would wish to remain, though 
for some reason she appeared unwilling to say so. 
‘‘ The lady will stay, sir,” she said, kindly, turning 


236 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

to the priest ; and then she can see Mary after. 
Will you come in to her, sir ; she 's quite read}^ ? 

“ I will not be long,'’ said the priest, turning to 
Miss Stapleton. The poor child was at confession 
a few days ago. When I have heard her, you can 
come in. I think,” he continued, looking calmly,, 
but thoughtfully, at the sister ; I think you believe 
in our Divine Lord’s real presence in the Most 
Holy Sacrament ; and I am sure you Avould like 
to be present when Mary receives her God, per- 
haps for the last time on earth ? ” 

For the first time in her life. Miss Stapleton was 
present at the administration of a sacrament. She 
saw the calm joy on Mary’s face as Jesus was given 
to her J)y His priest, and she heard the beautiful 
and holy words with which the last anointing was 
administered to the dying one. She remembered 
her mother’s death-bed ; it was but a few years 
since she had been called into eternity. She re- 
membered, oh ! vividly, the cold void that she had 
felt because there was nothing that could be done 
for her soul. The minister had read and prayed, 
had advised her to trust in the merits of Christ, and 
to have no doubt of her acceptance with Him, but, 
though his words were earnest and his manner 
kind, she was not satisfied. Words were but words, 
and something more was craved by the soul so 
9* 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


237 


near to death and judgment. How different was 
the Catholic death-bed ! The priest of God, in the 
name and power of God, absolved the dying sin- 
ner. There was no need for exhortation to trust 
in Christ, for Christ Himself had already pardoned, 
and trust had merged itself into loving, humble 
confidence. Fear there must be, even with the 
most saintly, of that dread hour when each shall 
have his doom ; but the fear was calmed and be- 
came but another form of filial reverence when the 
God who was to judge came Himself to be the 
strength and Viaticum of the trembling soul. 

Unable to restrain her tears, or to subdue her 
emotion, Selina wept aloud, and so absorbed was 
she in her own thoughts that she did not attempt 
to rise, until Mrs. Loyd touched her gently, and 
requested that she would go into the front room 
for a moment, as Father Hendred wished to speak 
to her. 

There was a look of tenderest pity in his fine, 
benevolent countenance, as he closed the door and 
gently handed her a chair. 

My child, you are in trouble. Tell me, what 
can I do for you ? '' 

For a few moments tears prevented her from re- 
plying, but the priest waited patiently, and only 
pressed his Lord closer to his heart, where He still 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


238 

lay, waiting to be the Viaticum of others of His 
dying children. 

Oh, if I knew what was right ; if I knew what 
to do !’' exclaimed the poor girl, in a very agony 
of grief. But no, it cannot be right to forsake the 
church of my baptism, and all this may be only 
mere feeling and excitement ! 

You do not forsake the church of your baptism, 
my child, when you return to the one true Fold. 
If you are rightly baptized, as may be the case, 
you are but a wanderer from Home, and why, oh ! 
why, delay your return ? ” 

But, father, you do not know the difficulties, 
the trials 

“ I know them. Ah, my child, there are few 
priests who do not know what the prodigal son 
must suffer in his return to his father’s house ; and 
if I did not know, remember your Heavenly Father 
knows, and feels for every pang.” 

A long and earnest conversation followed, and 
so interested were both, that Miss Stapleton forgot 
the length of time she had been absent from home, 
if her unhappy abode could be designated by that 
hallowed name. It was long since she had opened 
her heart so unreservedly. Father Hendred was 
prepared for much that she had to say ; but when 
he heard of her trials as a Protestant Sister, he 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


239 

could not help expressing surprise, and almost in- 
dignation. 

I wish we had a real convent of Sisters of 
Mercy here,*' he exclaimed, at last ; and I would 
take you there at once. My sister is professed 
in one near London. What ! do you suppose for a 
moment that such a life as you describe can be 
anything like that of a Catholic nun ? No wonder 
you are dejected and depressed ; shut out from 
intercourse with the world, and from all the inno- 
cent pleasures of life ; and literally immured in an 
establishment calling itself a convent, where you 
have neither spiritual nor temporal consolatipn. I 
only wonder that you have preserved your reason. 
Surely, my child, Miss Dobbs and Dr. Humble- 
tone, at least, must know that in convents the Sis- 
ters see their relatives, at reasonable intervals ; 
and, what is far more important to those who have 
renounced all earthly ties for the love of God, 
have constant spiritual help and instruction. Their 
superior is a Mother not merely in name, but in 
reality, and to her they have constant and unre- 
stricted recourse. Were* she to fail in her duty, or 
become tyrannical or capricious in its exercise, the 
yearly visitation of the Bishop enables them, with 
the strictest privacy, to state their difficulties or 
complaints ; and, in addition to this, they see their 


240 


HORNE-Hl^RST RECTOR Y, 


confessor weekly, and, several times in the year, 
any other priest whom they may select. If Miss 
Dobbs is unable, from ill health, to govern her 
community personally, she should allow her Sisters 
to elect another person to fill her place ; but even 
supposing she retained her office, and were the 
person of importance she supposes herself to be, 
why does she prevent you from having free inter- 
course with those whom you consider your eccle- 
siastical superiors? If she believes in the Sacra- 
ment of Penance, or allows that the ministers of 
your Church have power to absolve, why does she 
not encourage you to seek such a blessing, instead 
of placing obstacles in your way regarding it? 
Ah, my child ! believe me, you have been living in 
a region of unreality ; you have aimed at the ex- 
ternals of a Catholic truth and Catholic practices, 
and what has been the result? Your life, as a 
Protestant (excuse my using the expression, but 
every one who is not a Catholic is a Protestant, or 
a Protestor against the Faith,) your life, as a Prot- 
estant Sister, has been unhappy ; not because your 
object was calculated to make you so ; on the con- 
trary, you found pleasure, and your only pleasure, 
in assisting the poor and comforting the afflicted, 
not because you were deprived, or rather destitute, 
of that supernatural grace which alone can make a 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


241 


supernatural life agreeable, or even possible. You 
were not given the assistance and instruction which 
every Catholic novice receives, to prepare her for 
the high and holy state to which she aspires. You 
have desired to be a spouse of Christ, but those 
who invited you to the nuptials knew not how to 
attire you for them ; and how could it be other- 
wise ? They could not teach you what they had 
not learned themselves ; and, instead of the sublime 
and simple obedience paid by a Catholic nun to 
her Superior, because that superior, sanctioned by 
the church’s apostolic authority, is to her the rep- 
resentative of Him for whose love, she obeys, you 
are compelled, or expected, to yield a blind and 
absurd submission to an individual, herself under 
no rule, and showing no patent for the authority 
she presumes to exercise. Her ignorance may 
excuse her ; though, from what you have told me, 
and from what I have heard from other sources, I 
fear that ignorance can scarcely be as great as 
charity would lead one to wish. But be it so ; if 
she is ignorant, she can inform herself ; and if she 
does not do so, her ignorance is culpable and inex- 
cusable. But, my child, at present our object must 
be to settle about yourself. What do you intend 
to do? I must earnestly advise you to leave Miss 
Dobbs’ establishment at once ; this cannot bind 


II 


242 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


you to any step you might regret hereafter, and 
will leave you an opportunity of making those 
enquiries regarding our holy faith, which, with 
your present convictions, are an imperative duty/' 
After a few moments’ hesitation. Miss Stapleton 
decided on the course to be pursued. It was in 
vain that sister Helen expostulated and even threat- 
ened ; the young girl was firm and determined, 

and the next train found her on the way to , 

where her sister and mother-in-law resided. Their 
amazement at her unexpected appearance was, 
indeed, great. Explanations followed quickly, and 
though they were shocked and distressed at her 
evident determination to enquire into the claims 
of the Catholic Church, they could place no other 
obstacles in her way except tears and entreaties. 
To save her relatives the odium and publicity 
which would surely follow, if she took any decided 
step, she determined to go alone to London, and 
there place herself under the instruction of a Cath- 
olic priest, to whom Father Hendred had advised 
her to apply. It was not long before every doubt 
was satisfied, every difficulty removed. Her great- 
est trial was the pain she inflicted on Mr. Langdale, 
by withdrawing herself from his direction. It was 
in vain that he assured her that right views ” 
must one day triumph ; that the religious life 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


243 


would be restored to the English Church, and 
when better regulated b}^ authority, be less liable 
to such scandals as had occurred under Miss Dobbs' 
administration ; that the sacraments would in time 
be all acknowledged as such. Her answer was 
still the same : If our perfection of doctrine and 
practice increases in proportion as it becomes more 
like that of the Roman Catholic Church, why 
must we wait and struggle for an uncertainty, 
when the reality is within our reach ?" 


CHAPTER XVI. 


“ Oh, apple blossoms, wet with heavy showers, 

Oh, fragrant breath of purple lilac trees ; 

Oh, blessed odours from Spring’s earliest flowers. 
How have ye stirred my slumbering memories !” 



I HAT a splendid day," exclaimed Charlie 
Helmore, throwing open the casement 
windows which his father had lately got 
for the breakfast-room at Horne-hurst. Now, Alice, 
if 3^ou and I only had some one to be in love with 
besides ourselves what fun we should hav^e to-day. 
There’s Miss Rossmore and Edward, Henry Mor- 
daunt and Gertrude, doing the romantic, and making 


244 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


a fuss about each other from morning till night, 
while you and I, Alice, are just nobodies, and have 
no one to say, ‘ Charlie, dear, how pale you look to- 
day,’ or ‘ Alice, love, will you be able just for a little 
walk this evening.’ Well, Tiny, I suppose we 
must be resigned, and make the best of circum- 
stances ; so come, now, let’s have a run on the lawn 
with Rover before the sentimental people make 
their appearance.” 

Alice was not quite sure whether her brother ex- 
pected a reply to his observations, so she contented 
herself with looking quietly at him for a few mo- 
ments, and then thinking it possible that he might 
expect her to speak, she said, very seriously: 

Charlie, I don’t want to be in love, it’s not sensi- 
ble ; but you can do as you like.” 

What’s not sensible, Alice,” inquired Edward, 
who at this very moment entered the room, and heard 
only the concluding part of her speech, and Char- 
lie’s peal of laughter. 

‘‘ Tell him, Alice,” exclaimed Charlie, who saAV 
she hesitated a little from some vague idea that her 
tall brother might not quite agree with her senti- 
ments. But Alice for once was determined to be 
silent, and Charlie had no resource but to announce 
her oracular decision himself. 

For Heaven’s sake, Charlie, do let the child 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


245 


alone ; there’s no knowing what she will sa}^ next, 
and with visitors in the house it might be very un- 
pleasant. I wonder they are not down to break- 
fast,” he continued, glancing at the time-piece ; it 
is nearly half-past nine.” 

'' Possibly the young ladies did not retire very 
early last night, Edward* You know they have not 
met for some time, and have important subjects to 
discuss. Your hair and Tom Mordaunt’s are not 
precisely .the same color, and doubtless there was a 
serious dispute as to which was the nicest shade. 
Your eyes are different too, though I should not 
wonder but on the whole they might prefer mine. 
Then your ” 

But further speech was effectually stopped by a 
cushion, which Edward, half in play and half in 
anger, despatched, with unerring aim, at his broth- 
er’s head, and which ended its career on the break- 
fast table, oversetting a vase of flowers and a jug 
of cream. 

That’s what I call coming to grief,” exclaimed 
Charlie, sitting down on the sofa with provoking 
indifference, while Edward vainly endeavored to 
remedy the catastrophe, and in doing so only made 
it worse. 

Alice had retired to a little boudoir off the break- 
fast-room, and was entering with an air of injured 


246 ' HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 

dignity, but when she saw what had happened, her 
feelings of propriety got the better of her resent- 
ment. 

‘‘ I will go for Mary,’’ she said, and before her 
brothers had time to put themselves in trim for a 
wrestling match, then and there to end the quarrel, 
if quarrel it could be called, Mary appeared, and, 
with the assistance of the servants, rectified the 
breakfast table before the rest of the party ap- 
peared. 

We are late this morning,” remarked Mr. Hel- 
more, after all were seated except Alice, who had 
partaken of her morning meal an hour before. 

“Yes, sir,” said Charlie, gravely. “ I was giving 
Edward some reasons for the delay a little while 
before you came down, but he didn’t altogeth- 
er approve of them, and i believe we are to 
settle the matter presently by a wrestling match. 
Perhaps the ladies would like to be present. 1 am 
sure ” 

“ Nonsense, Charlie. Will you ever get sense,” 
exclaimed Gertrude, indignantly. “ We have some- 
thing else to do.” 

And something pleasanter, too, I hope,” said 
Mr. Helmore, turning cautiously to Katie. “ I am 
sure Miss Eossmore would like to drive or ride to- 
day, it is so fine; she must be anxious to see her 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


'247 

old home again, and her poor friends in the village 
who have not forgotten her/' 

For a moment Katie's eyes filled with tears. 
She thought of her last visit to Saytonmere ; how 
many changes had taken place since then. It is no 
longer home to her ; it never would be her home 
again. Mr. Mordaunt was now rector, much to his 
own satisfaction, as he was now free to carry out 
his High Church views, and much to the annoy- 
ance of his parishioners, who highly disapproved of 
all his proceedings. 

I wonder how soon Mordaunt will make his ap- 
pearance," observed Edward, partly from a real, 
though not altogether unselfish interest in that gen- 
tleman's movements, and partly to hide Katie’s em- 
barrassment by attracting attention to another 
subject. . 

‘‘ Have a look at the almanack. No, that will 
not do either. It is not the orthodox thing. Stay, 
Alice, give me that prayer-book which some one 
has charitably left on the side-table. That's right. 
Now for ‘ May the ist., St. Philip and St. James,' 
apostles, I suppose, or something of that sort. 
Now, Edward, your question is answered. Mor- 
daunt won't be here until twelve o'clock. He reads 
prayers on feast-days, or fast-days, or some days of 
the sort, at ten sharp, to those old women in red 


248 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


cloaks and his clerk, who, no doubt, are greatly 
edified and benefited by his pastoral care/’ 

‘‘ I wish we were nearer,” observed Katie, quietl}^ 

I would like to go.” 

Charlie looked at her with such real incredulous 
astonishment, that she could not help laughing. 
‘‘Well, Miss Rossmore,” he exclaimed. “Well, 
times are changed since I was young ; go to hear 
prayers read on a week-day, and really like it. 
Pooh, it’s past comprehension.” 

“ What would you say if I read them for myself 
when I cannot go to church,” replied Katie, exces- 
sively amused at Charlie’s perplexed expression, by 
no means lessened by her last remark. 

“Say? What would I say? Why, I don’t see 
why you could not read them just as well as the 
parson. Reading is reading, all the world over, 
and, except for the sermon. I’m hanged if I see 
why any of us need go to church on Sunday, when 
we could do the thing just as well at home, and in 
half the time.” 

Mr. Helmore looked annoyed, but he said nothing. 

“ Charlie, I really do not know where you have 
got these strange ideas ; certainly, you did not 
learn them at home.” Mrs. Helmore spoke in a 
tone of voice that showed she was displeased, and 
for her was certainly severe. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


249 


My dear mother, I beg your pardon. I assure 
you I intended no disrespect to any one’s opinions, 
only I suppose I may have my own on religious 
matters, provided I don’t turn Turk or Papist, and 
pray be satisfied, there is not the remotest chance 
of such a calamity.” 

The post, the post ! ” exclaimed Alice, whose 
particular pride and pleasure it was to watch the 
messenger who brought the letters from the vil- 
lage. 

The Helmores had not a large correspondence, 
but this morning there were a good many letters. 
Katie received three or four, and Mary and Ger- 
trude one each, from old school-fellows. A large, 
official-looking document was handed to Edward, 
and Mrs. Helmore received a letter, the seal of 
which she broke hurriedly, and perused the con- 
tents with more anxiety than was usually apparent 
on such occasions. 

Katie was too much interested in her own letters 
to remark what was passing around, but it did not 
escape Gertrude’s observation that her father and 
brother left the room together, and that the latter 
looked as if the intelligence received had not been 
of a very agreeable nature. 

‘‘The commission, I suppose?” said Mr. Hel- 
more, as soon as they had reached his study. 

II* 


250 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


‘^Yes, sir/' replied Edward, and an order to 
join the regiment at once. I conclude the rumors 
of war are not groundless, as such haste is re- 
quired.'^ 

Mr. Helmore looked thoughtful and distressed. 

Well, well, Edward, the deed is done now ! Poor 
Miss Rossmore, I am sorry for her. She 's a nice 
girl, very, and greatly improved since I saw her 
last. Poor thing, it will be a great trial to her, and 
so soon after her father's death ! " 

“ I fear I must go to London at once," replied 
Edward; ^‘and if so, I must tell her this morning. 
I hope she will stay a while with you and my 
mother. I am sure it will be best for her." 

I will speak to Mrs. Helmore." The good old 
man had never called his wife by her christian- 
name since their marriage. It was a peculiarity, 
but, in truth, no want of affection. will speak 
to Mrs. Helmore, Edward ; and, when you have 
told Miss Rossmore, we will see what can be done 
to induce her to remain. I wish she would stay. 
There is something very pleasing, very good, about 
her ; but don't you think she looks sad, Edward — 
I mean, more so than one would expect, even after 
her father’s death ? " 

‘‘ I am afraid, sir, her home is not a very happy 
one. Lady Rossmore is peculiar, and — " 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


251 


Ah, yes ! I remember, I remember, poor little 
Amy ! He felt it, too. Poor thing, poor thing ! 
You had better go to her, Edward — and, Edward, 
tell her this house is her home. Mind, Edward, 
her home, just as much as if she was my own child. 
Poor thing, poor thing ! 

The ladies had left the breakfast-room when he 
returned to it, but he could see Gertrude and 
Catherine Rossmore walking slowly down the 
shrubbery. In a moment he was with them, and 
his sister, pleading some domestic avocation, con- 
siderately withdrew. 

So, you will not remain here, Katie, after I 
leave ? I fear my father will feel it, he is so anxious 
about you.” 

‘‘ Then, I will tell him myself why I think it best 
to return to London,rand try to get his consent to 
bringing Gertrude with me.” 

If 3^ou promise to pay them a visit again before 
the summer is over, I think they will be better 
satisfied, and, for my sake, I must entreat you will 
do so?” 

‘‘ The summer ! Ah, Edward, how can we tell 
what will be before its roses bloom and fade ! Call 
me romantic or sentimental, or what you will, but, 
in truth, I cannot shake off an impression of coming 
sorrow.” 


252 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


A brave soldier’s wife my little Katie will 
make ! ” replied the young man, taking her hand 
gently in his own, and attempting a cheerfulness he 
was far from feeling. Why, I suppose, if there is 
war, you will expect a bulletin of my health every 
day, and have me ‘ killed or wounded ’ fifty times a 
week? Never mind, Katie; there’s a ‘good time 
coming,’ only, as Charlie says, we must wait for 
it!” 

“ Yes, it will come, but not here,” she murmured 
to herself, and then, feeling it was wrong to add to 
a sorrow which she knew must be already but too 
hard to bear, she said, cheerfully, “ But, Edward 
dear, as you must go to-morrow, I am sure you 
will want a few hours to write letters and make 
arrangements, and I think, meanwhile, I ought to 
see your dear, kind father and tell him my 
plans?” 

“ Well, I suppose it is best,” replied the young 
man, reluctantly ; “ but mind, I will only give you 
ten minutes, as I intend to have you all to myself 
until dinner-time ; for my letters can wait, as well 
as other matters, for a later hour.” 

“ A pretty tyrannical announcement, Mr. Edward, 
and what if I transgress your orders ? ” replied 
Katie, as she hastened back to the house, trying to 
smile, but failing sadly in the attempt. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


253 


It was not without some difficulty that Mr. Hel- 
more consented to her arrangements ; however, 
when he found she was determined on returning to 
London, he at once agreed to allow Gertrude to 
accompany her, and proposed himself that they 
should travel under Edward’s protection, as they 
assured him they could be ready for the next 
morning’s express-train. 

“ And so you will come with me, Gertrude dear? 
It is more than kind ! ” exclaimed Catherine, throw- 
ing her arms affectionately round the young girl. 
‘‘ But what will Mr. Mordaunt say ? I almost dread 
the idea of seeing him after making such an attempt 
on his peace of mind.” 

Gertrude did not answer. Her face was buried 
on her friend’s shoulder. But when she raised it, 
Catherine saw, to her surprise and astonishment, 
that her eyes were full of tears. 

Oh, Katie ! you will wonder at this ; but I will 
tell you all another time. I am sure Edward is in 
an agony until you are with him again. Do go to 
him ; he is worthy of you, Katie. If he is such a 
brother to his sisters, what will he not be to his 
wife ! And he, he can have no misgivings — ” 

“ Gertrude,' surely you are ill ; you speak so 
strangely ! I thought you were so happy in your 
engagement ; and now that your parents had con- 


254 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


sented, I believed your marriage would take place 
in a few months, and I thought I could assist you 
to purchase your trousseau in London.’' 

Gertrude did not reply for a moment, but she 
turned to a book-shelf, and taking something from 
it, half-pamphlet and half-book, handed it to Katie! 

<< > Privately printed — on holy Virginity ! ’ Why, 
Gertrude, what has this to do with you ? I know 
your views are different from those of the rest of 
your family, and that is also a reason why I thought 
you would be happier with me for a time ; but I 
cannot understand what this has to do with the 
depression which, it is but too apparent, you are 
suffering from. Surel}^, you have no idea, no call, 
to such a life ? ” 

I have not, Katie ; but ought he to marry } ” 
The words were calmly said, but there was un- 
uttered wretchedness in the tone of her voice, that 
said plainly, however indifferent, or even absurd, 
such an idea might be to other people, it was one 
of no ordinary importance to her. 

Catherine understood her at once. Gertrude, 
you shall see Mr. Langdale when you come to 
town. He will set your mind at rest, better than I 
can ; and, believe me, he will sympathize with your 
trial.” 

Do you go to confession, Katie?” inquired 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


255 


Gertrude, in so abrupt a manner, that for the mo- 
ment her companion was startled, and scarcely 
liked to reply. 

'' Well, Gertrude, it is not a matter we like to 
speak much about ; it must be done very privately, 
of course, in the present state of the Church ; but 
Mr. Langdale says he has no fear but in time the 
Bishops will get right views on the subject, and 
then, of course, there will not be so much necessity 
for secrecy.” 

Oh ! for some one to guide ! some one to help ! 
some one to direct !” exclaimed Gertrude. Cath- 
erine,” she continued in a moment, you have not 
answered my question. I cannot understand, if it 
is right to go to confession, why there should be 
so much concealment about it ; but I can quite 
understand that you may not wish to speak of an}^- 
thing so personal and private. Catherine, I would 
like to see Dr. Humbletone ; he must be a great 
saint; and yet Mr. Mordaunt says he wishes him 
to marry. I cannot understand it, with his views 
about holy virginity.” 

. Gertrude, you are a strange girl,” exclaimed 
Katie, half amused and half perplexed at her evi- 
dent distress ; you are engaged to be married to 
a man you love ; you have got over all the papa 
and mamma difficulties ; friends are propitious ; 


256 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


the parson and parsonage are ready, and yet here 
you are making yourself, and, I suppose, your in- 
tended, miserable, about a mere fancy ; really, I am 
half inclined to think Charlie is right, that you are 
getting romantic, and wishing to have a little 
f variety from the plain ordinary course of getting 
married quietly, and settling down into a steady, 
well-behaved matron/' 

Gertrude smiled, but there was something in her 
smile that showed her feelings were deeper than 
her friend supposed. A rather impatient knock at 
the door, and the exclamation, ‘‘ Well ! Gertrude! 
really this is too bad ; who would ever have sup- 
posed that you two girls would sit down here 
quietly, just doing nothing, while your distracted 
slaves were fuming and storming at such an un- 
reasonable delay. Mordaunt has been here this 
half hour, and as he is not in the most amiable 
mood, in consequence of the announcement of your 
approaching departure, we left him alone in the 
library, where you will find him, if he has not swal- 
lowed ‘ cold pizen,' or done any other desperate 
deed. Well, ladies, are you coming; really, if I 
did not believe you were both superior to the cap- 
rices of your sex, I would think " 

Here we are now, Edward,” exclaimed Ger- 
trude, who had been bathing her face, and making 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


257 

other efforts to look less miserable while her broth- 
er was delivering his speech at the half-open door. 
A few moments more, and Katie and Edward might 
have been seen wandering down the green lane 
that led from Horne-hurst Rectory to the high 
road ; while Gertrude and Mr. Mordaunt, whose 
conversation was more serious, though probably 
not less interesting to each other, were seated in a 
summer-house, now freshening into the rich bloom 
of maythorn flowers. 

Such is life, Gertrude exclaimed the young 
clergyman, breaking off a flowery branch, and then 
shaking it until the petals fell like snow-flakes to 
the ground ; a little while and the great future 
will tell what is real and what unreal ; but, believe 
me, dear, over much of our probation here must 
consist of uncertainty ; let us do our best in the 
present, and hope for the future; the days of 
Hooker and Andrews will be restored, nay they 
are restored to us in a great measure ; who could 
have supposed, a few years since, that true church 
principles would be tolerated even by those who 
called themselves churchmen, and yet the number 
of those who have and value the privileges of our 
pure, reformed communion, are every day increas- 
ing.’’ 

Gertrude did not reply. She was looking ab- 


258 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


stractedly at the glorious summer clouds which 
floated in majestic slowness over the blue vault 
above. Then perceiving that Mr. Mordaunt had 
ceased to speak, she roused herself with an effort. 
'' Uncertainty ! Oh, Henry, this is what I cannot 
bear! Oh, that you were not in holy orders! 
then every difficulty would be removed ; but 
now- '' 

‘‘What can Alice want?’' exclaimed Mr. Mor- 
daunt, a little impatiently, as the child ran towards 
them, and then placed a note in his hand. Its 
soiled appearance, and badly-written contents, told 
plainly it was from some poor person. He was 
about to put it away unopened, impatient of every 
moment that interrupted a conversation of such 
interest, but Alice declared that she must have an 
answer, as a woman was waiting for it. 

Mr. Mordaunt opened the note. It was from the 
wife of a respectable farmer who lived at the fur- 
thest boundary of his parish. She said her hus- 
band was dying, and earnestly begged the parson 
would come to him without dela}’, as his mind was 
very uneasy. Poor Mr. Mordaunt ! It was a hard 
struggle between duty and inclination. If he left 
Gertrude then, he would not see her alone again, as 
he could not return to Horne-hurst, the distance was 
so great, until dinner-hour, if even so early ; if he 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


259 

did not go, perhaps the man would not live until 
next morning. He dared not tell Gertrude, for he 
knew such a circumstance would only add to her 
present mental distress, and increase her dread of 
marrying a clergyman, lest home ties should often 
prove painfully incompatible with parochial duties. 
After a few moments hesitation, he chose the more 
agreeable alternative of remaining with his be- 
trothed, endeavoring to satisfy his conscience with 
the reflection that she required spiritual help and 
consolation, as well as his dying parishioner, and 
that it would not be right to let her leave home in 
her present state of mind. 

The farmer died that night, and his wife made 
and kept a resolution never to attend the parish 
church again. What was the use of the gentleman 
preaching, as he did, about sending for their priest 
when they were sick, and getting the absolution 
from him, if he did n't come when he was wanted ? 
If he believed he could do so much for their souls, 
why did n’t he do it ; and he paid for it, too ? God 
help them all, if the minister or priest, or whatever 
he called himself, would only come when he had 
nothing else to do, or when it was no ways incon- 
venient to him. So reasoned the poor widow ; 
perhaps she was right, but she was very ignorant, 
and had no well-defined ideas of ecclesiastical pol- 


26 o 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


ity beyond the rather common one that people 
should practice what they preached. 

'‘Well, Gertrude,'' exclaimed Mr. Mordaunt, 
when Alice had been despatched with his reply, writ- 
ten hastily in pencil on the back of the note ; " well, 
Gertrude, and what is to be the end of all this? 
Really I cannot understand you, and am half in- 
clined to think you are playing the coquette ; and 
believe me," he added, hastily, " this is what few 
men will bear patiently." 

There was something in the tone of his voice 
which startled his companion, and brought a deep 
flush to her usually pale countenance ; she raised 
her large earnest eyes for one moment to his face, 
and then spoke slowly and deliberately. 

" Henry, you do not really know me, or you ' 
would never for one moment imagine I could wil- 
fully give you pain. We have been engaged now 
three months, and, as you say, there is no obstacle 
to our union, except these fancies of mine. Henry, 

I cannot get over them ; I must see my way clearer 
before I act ; but I have no right to bind you, while 
I am unwilling to bind myself ; let us, then, both 
be free. I will see Dr. Humbletone in London, 
and think and pray, calmly, over this matter. Do 
you as you will. On the first of August I will write 
to you, and give you a final decision ; but even 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 26 1 

then, Henry, you are free ; and if my views change, 
I will take the humiliation of a rejection, or brave 
the anguish of seeing you betrothed to another, 
should you desire it, and bear all as a punishment 
for the pain I have unwillingly caused you/' 

‘‘ Surely, Gertrude, you are not in earnest ; what 
can you mean ? Really, this is worse than all !" 
exclaimed the young man, following her as she 
moved quietly, but determinedly, toward the 
house. He was angry with himself because he 
had swerved from a plain duty, and, as is often the 
case on such occasions, he vented his vexation on 
the first person who crossed his inclinations. 

“ I am in earnest, Henry ; and I call you Henry, 
still, to show you this is no lovers' quarrel, made 
for the sake of a reconciliation, or to gratify the 
whim of a passing pique. I have thought of this 
for some days. Your remark this morning, and 
Catherine’s invitation to London, have only made 
my way clearer." 

‘‘ Of course. Miss Helmore is free to act as she 
pleases," observed Mr. Mordaunt, haughtily ; ‘‘ prob 
ably London will provide new friends and more 
attractive society, than our quiet country circle ; 
and, doubtless, the admiration she may receive 
will more than compensate for the affection she 
has rejected." 


262 HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 

Henry, I can forgive you,'’ replied Gertrude, 
calmly, though the large tears which coursed each 
other down her cheeks told that her calmness was 
an effort ; you must feel ; but God knows, I act 
thus only to save you from worse. Nay, my be- 
loved, we part not so ; in sorrow it must be, truly, 
but not in anger ; and have you not yourself taught 
me that sorrow is a holy thing ?" 

You are a strange girl, Gertrude," replied the 
young man, taking her offered hand ; I am sorry 
for what I have said, but it has been a trying day, 
and I am scarcely master of my words or feelings. 
No, we will not part in anger; and I will be a 
prophet of good things, and assure you that one 
interview with my uncle will decide all your 
doubts ; onl)^ promise me that, if it does, you will 
write to me at once, and not keep me in torture 
for three months, without necessity." 

‘‘I will promise, Henry ; and now let us part. 
I will explain all to my father and mother, and sat- 
isfy them that the fault is all on my side." 

Mr. Mordaunt's thoughts, as he returned home, 
were not of the most agreeable nature. The 
morning’s message from the dying farmer more 
than once crossed his mind unpleasantly ; but he 
had left his horse at Horne-hurst, and even if 
it had not been too far to walk, how could he 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 263 

attend a dying bed in his present state of agita- 
tion ? 

A long, restless evening was followed by a wake- 
ful night. As morning dawned, he fell asleep ; but 
it was only to have troubled dreams, in which 
Gertrude Helmore and the dying farmer appeared 
in ghostly shapes ; and at length he awoke, more 
weary than before, imagining his own death-bell 
was tolling, and that he had been condemned to 
haunt the church-yard until the day of doom, now 
shivering with cold, and now scorched with heat, 
as a punishment for his neglect of his dying par- 
ishioner. 

The death-bell, at all events, proved a reality. 
Hastily ringing for the servant, as soon as he was 
conscious that the sounds did not appertain to the 
gloomy misgivings of the night, he enquired the 
cause. The old Catholic custom of tolling a 
passing bell had been kept up at Saytonmere, as it 
is in many English parishes, and its solemn peals 
were saying that farmer Williams had gone to 
hear his eternal doom. Alas! that the Catholic 
practice of praying for mercy on this poor soul 
had been forgotten. A few hours later, and the 
distant railway whistle announced the departure 
of the express train to London. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

“Come, for my Father calls, 

Thou art my elected bride/" 

CAB was driving rapidly through the 
streets of London late on the evening of 
the 30th of April. No one noticed it, or 
even wondered whither it was bound. But, had 
any of the numerous passengers who thronged the 
busy streets been permitted for a moment to gaze 
on the world of spirits, by which we are always so 
closely surrounded, their interest in the individuals 
seated silently in the vehicle would have been ex- 
cited. There were two angels there, whose radi- 
ance was more than usually glorious, and whose 
songs were more than usually seraphic. They be- 
held a face in heaven, whose smile was their life, 
and they saw in the beings whom they guarded on 
earth an ever-deepening likeness to that celestial 
vision, a likeness that even now was tracing itself 
in beaming characters never to be effaced. 

Madeleine would have thought the way long, 
(264) 



HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


265 


had she not been so absorbed in her own thoughts 
as to be unconscious of the lapse of time. She, 
too, was gazing up, not the less really, because the 
gaze was as yet but mental. Patience, Madeleine, 
patience, it will not be always so ; you shall yet 
see even as you are seen, and know even as 
you are known. ’Tis but drops of the great ocean 
of love that flood your heart now ; and yet it is 
almost too much for you ; what would it be if the 
full tide of celestial sweetness poured itself out 
upon your little trembling soul ? 

Well, Madeleine, are you wondering what kind 
of reception Mere Angelique will give you ?” en- 
quired the grave-looking ecclesiastic who was 
seated by her side. 

In a moment Madeleine was herself again, and 
ready to answer her uncle with her usual sweet 
smile. No, it was not that she was thinking of, 
and her uncle knew it very well, though he asked 
the question. 

We shall soon arrive at the convent,’' he con- 
tinued ; ‘‘ but you look weary, my child ; I fear 
this journey has been too much for you, after all 
you have gone through so lately.” 

It never wearies one to go home, my father,” 
replied Madeleine, in French ; she was not yet 
familiar enough with English to speak it fluently. 

12 


266 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


The Abbe La Blanche smiled. He knew what 
she meant ; and how could it be otherwise, when 
he had been accustomed to read her every thought 
from childhood. 

Madeleine La Blanche was an orphan. Her moth- 
er died while she was a baby, and her father s sec- 
ond marriage had not proved a happy one, either 
for himself or his child. 

Madame La Blanche was a proud, impetuous 
woman ; all the more jealous of her husband’s affec- 
tion for his little one, because she herself had no 
offspring. 

M. La Blanche died when his child had just en- 
tered her fourteenth year, and had no resource but to 
leave her under the joint guardianship of his only 
brother and his second wife. And now poor Made- 
leine’s trials began in earnest. During her father’s 
life-time he had shielded her to some extent from 
the effects of her step-mother’s capricious temper. 
But it seemed as if the temporary restraint was 
to bring a most serious reaction. Still the child 
was not without resource and comfort. From ear- 
liest years she had shown a singular love for all 
that was most pure and holy. Her own mamma 
was dead, it is true ; but she had still a living and a 
loving Mother to whom she could cling for sup- 
port, and from whom she could receive richer and 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 267 

more blessed gifts than fondest parent could have 
bestowed. Each morning she knelt at the little altar 
in her room, and begged that the Immaculate One 
would guard her through the day, even as she 
had guarded the infant Jesus. And she promised 
fondly and fervently that she would strive, in all her 
actions, to imitate that Holy Child. The Incarna- 
tion of the Son of God was no unreality, no ab- 
stract theory to her. He had been made man, not 
merely to die for her, but to teach her, and give her 
an example how she should live. Her young life 
was formed on this faultless model. Can we won- 
der that she became likened unto it in proportion 
to her love and veneration for her in whose pure 
and spotless womb that God was made Flesh. 

But there was a joy in that young heart that no 
exterior circumstance could cloud ; no exterior 
trial could lessen. It was almost in her baby days 
that she had resolved to have no other spouse than 
that beautiful Infant who lay in Mary’s arms. Her 
vocation seemed as if it had been born with her; it 
was the very sunshine of her life. A voice, that 
was not of earth, had whispered in her inmost soul. 
Surge arnica mea, et veiny What, could she love 
an)^ other love save the one whose affection had 
been even unto death and anguish, and could never 
change ? The desire of her childhood’s days but 


268 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


deepened with increasing years. It was like a rich 
under -current of harmony that gave its tone to 
every changing circumstance of her life. When 
some domestic trial, some unkindness or neglect, 
pressed heavily on her young heart, it was enough 
for her spiritual guide to say, Madeleine, this will 
make you dearer to Jesus, if you bear it patiently 
for His love or, My child, you can offer this to 
Jesus to obtain the grace of being one day His 
spouse.*’ The trial seemed no longer a trial ; it 
was a means to an end, the attainment of which 
was her one desire. 

Madame La Blanche was far from sympathizing 
in the feelings of her little step-daughter ; though 
she was herself a Catholic, 3^et she loved hy meas- 
ure, if such can be called love at all. Every month 
she went to confession and to the sacrament of the 
altar ; but here her piety was satisfied ; or if willful 
neglect of the precepts of the church would have 
appeared horrible to her, it was rather because she 
feared to offend a God who would punish, than de- 
sired to love a God who had died for love. Made- 
leine’s religious feelings were condemned as enthu- 
siastic and unfit for the world. But of all things a 
conventual life was Madame’s special aversion. 
Of course, it was all very well for some people ; she 
was too sincere a Catholic to doubt the piety or 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


269 

value of such religious institutions. But what 
would be said if her step-child became a religieuse? 
Would it not be supposed that domestic trials had 
crushed the natural gaiety of youth and made her 
prematurely grave ? It was in vain that Madeleine 
expostulated, and assured her mother that nuns 
were the happiest, the most joyous of beings. 
Madame would not be convinced, though in her 
heart she knew they would not change their state 
of life for a monarch’s ransom. 

Imagining that if Madeleine was hindered from 
spending so much time at her prayers, and was in- 
troduced early into the gay world, she would soon 
forget the romance of her childhood’s days, her 
step-mother determined on a line of conduct which 
was, perhaps, the heaviest trial of the young girl’s 
life. Every possible obstacle was placed in the way 
of her attendance at daily mass ; and every oppor- 
tunity was taken to prevent her being alone, and to 
bring her into society. 

At first Madeleine resisted, but an interview with 
her director convinced her that submission in all 
that did not involve sin was a duty. 

It was happy for her, poor child, that she was not 
left to guide herself in such trying circumstances. 
Happier still, that she knew the voice by which she 
was led had authority to speak, and light to direct. 


2/0 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


It was no self-constituted power. Not only were 
her sins forgiven by him who had the power from 
God to bind and loose, but sin was prevented by 
the guidance of one whom she knew she should obey 
even as she would Christ himself. It was no ques- 
tion of opinion, it was a matter of fact, that she was 
bound to obey those who had the rule over her ; 
j and it was no question of opinion, but a matter of 
fact, that her director was a lawful successor of 
those whom Christ Himself had appointed to ab- 
solve His people, and to teach His Church. Her 
path was plain, however painful it might be ; and 
now, if she was seen less frequently kneeling in ador- 
ation before the tabernacle or absorbed in prayer 
at the daily mass, she was not less near Him whom 
she hoped one day to call her Heavenly Bride- 
groom. She knew it was His will that she should 
obey even the caprices of her step - mother. It 
mattered not to her how foolish was the excuse for 
which she was detained at home ; she was but learn- 
ing to obey as He had obeyed, and to renounce her 
own will even in the holiest things. It was but an- 
other^way of pleasing Jesus ; and so it was done 
cheerfuUy, as such service should ever be ; none 
the less so, because it was not so pleasing to her- 
self. 

Madame La Blanche wondered at the quiet and 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


271 


cheerful submission of her step-child. Its motive 
was entirely beyond her comprehension ; and so 
it was easily misunderstood. Quite satisfied that 
Madeleine’s fancies” were passing away, and that 
with the natural changeability of youth she would 
now prefer a life to which she had always appeared 
adverse, she one day ventured to propose a mar- 
riage, which, under other circumstances, would have 
been desirable and advantageous. 

M. Le Comte, she said, had long admired Madeleine, 
and particularly appreciated her piety and retiring 
disposition; on his large estates she would find 
ample exercise for her zeal and charity, and could 
benefit countless poor by her alms and example. 
If Monsieur had not spoken himself, it was because 
he dreaded the pain of a repulse, and had, there- 
fore, requested she would plead his cause with her 
child. But if Madame La Blanche had been per- 
plexed by Madeleine’s submission, she was far more 
so by her rejection of so desirable a connection. 
She had yielded cheerfully when her pious and 
holy inclinations were thwarted by her step-mother, 
simply because the only object of her attendance 
at mass, and of her private devotions, was to please 
her divine Lord, and because she knew He would 
be more pleased by her submission. But now the 
case was different. Madame La Blanche was ex- 


272 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


pecting what no amount of filial duty could re- 
quire, and asking a sacrifice in a matter beyond her 
authority. It is true, Madeleine had made no vow 
or promise to become a religieusey and it was also 
true that it might be right for her to remain at 
home until her mother gonsented to her wishes ; 
but her intention had been too long and too steadily 
formed to be easily mistaken for a passing fervor, 
and the decision of her director, that her inclination 
for a religious life was a call from Heaven, made it 
plain that she was bound to follow it at all costs. 

But Madeleine was the child of a very special 
Providence. She had proved her willingness to 
sacrifice her inclinations for the love of God, even 
in the holiest and purest things; a test that few can 
bear. And now, in the most unexpected manner, 
all difficulties were cleared away. Madame La 
Blanche became dangerously ill. A severe cold, 
the consequences of exposure to night air during 
a fete-champitre followed by a ball, threatened 
her with an early grave. The approach of death 
wonderfully altered her views of life. It did not 
now seem so absurd to shut oneself up in a con- 
vent. Earth appeared less attractive and more 
fleeting in the calm light of a long eternity. But 
for that eternity Madame felt fearfully unprepared. 
Her measured piety shrank into the insignificance 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


273 


of a pitiful and reluctant alms. It looked cold and 
ghastly in the grey dawn of an unchanging day. 
What could she do ? What sacrifice could she 
make now to atone for the past, to relieve the pres- 
ent dread ? Madeleine had nursed her unweariedly 
day and night ; and, though she knew the physi- 
cians considered it dangerous for her to be so 
closely confined to a sick room, nothing could in- 
duce her to leave it. Madame La Blanche was 
deeply touched. Her faults were more the result 
of a natural thoughtlessness, than of any real mal- 
ice. Ah she cried, Madeleine would be fit to 
die, though she is so young ; she has lived for 
eternity — it is her home ; but I, ah ! miserable that 
I am, I have made earth my home, and now I 
must leave it to go to an unknown country, to be- 
hold a God whom I have scarcely loved 

After some days, a gleam of hope was given. 
Madame was pronounced, if not out of danger, at 
least, not worse ; and it was with no little joy that 
Madeleine perceived that the good news was far 
from lessening her compunction or desire of amend- 
ment. When the physicians had left the room, she 
called her step-child to her side, and after thanking 
her tenderly and gratefully for her care, spoke of 
the future, and of her hopes and fears. 

‘‘Ah, Madeleine! you have been more than a 
12* 


274 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 


daughter to me, and I have repaid you cruelly ; 
but now I will make amends. No longer will I 
hinder your desire to give yourself to God ; on 
the contrary, you shall leave me this day, if you 
will. I would not speak while they thought me 
dying, though my intention was the same, because 
I dare not offer to God a sacrifice I might not have 
power to make ; I have mocked him too often ; but 
now, Madeleine, you are free — nay, more, it is my 
desire that you leave me ; I have kept you too long 
from your God.” 

Madame La Blanche was in earnest ; and it was 
with difficulty that Madeleine persuaded her that 
she must remain, and would not leave her until 
she had quite recovered. The good Abbe was 
sent for, and was overjoyed to find his sister-in-law 
in so happy a frame of mind ; but when he looked 
at Madeleine's pale and worn countenance, he could 
scarcely suppress a sigh. She had submitted with 
saintly resignation to her trials, but they had not 
been less keenly felt. Her heart pined and yearned 
for its entire consecration to her celestial spouse. 
Like the virgin martyr of Antioch, she could say: 

“ Little thou knowest the blessedness of the unwedded state, 
Where all the undistracted spirit dwells on Heaven, 

Nor nightly dream nor daily thought withdrawn 
From Him who is the sun to that pale flower. 

The virgin’s heart.” 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


27s 


Grief was telling itself silently, day by day, on 
her naturally delicate frame. And now, that her 
life-long desire appeared on the eve of fulfillment, 
her uncle doubted if the bridal would be celebrated 
on earth, or in the courts of Paradise. 

As soon as Madame La Blanche was able to leave 
her apartment, arrangements were made for Mad- 
eleine’s departure. But her step-mother was now 
called to bear a trial which she could have wished 
to have been spared. There was a large convent 
of Poor Glares in her native town, and she knew 
that it was here Madeleine wished to consecrate 
herself to God. The Abbess was a person singu- 
larly fitted to attract a spiritual mind like Made- 
leine’s, and though of late the young -girl had seen 
but little of her religious friend, her heart was un- 
changed. A few months previous to her step- 
mother’s illness, the religious had been earnestly 
requested to establish a convent of their order in 
England. Rich seed had been sown there in' the 
blood of the njartyrs of their seraphic order ; per- 
haps it remained for their tears to water it, that it 
might bring forth fruit unto eternal life. They 
could not refuse. The Mere Angelique offered to 
undertake the foundation herself, and with a few 
devoted and heroic souls, left her native land for- 
ever, with all its dear associations, and came joy- 


2 76 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 

ously to brave the privations and trials of conven- 
tual life in a Protestant city. The only house 
which their poverty could afford, was a small one 
in the neighborhood of ; a back court, over- 

looked and surrounded by houses, the only substi- 
tute for the spacious and beautiful gardens attached 
to their monastery in France. Were they not very 
unhappy, those poor nuns, shut up in a small house, 
with so few friends, so many inconveniences, pre- 
vented by their rule of enclosure from going out, 
and obliged to content themselves with a dusty, 
sun-burnt back court, as their only resource for air 
and exercise ? 

Madeleine knew it all, and yet she was deter- 
mined to join them, and this was, indeed, a trial to 
her step-mother. Until she had actually made the 
sacrifice, she was scarcely aware how much it 
would cost her. With all her unkindness and ca- 
price, she had really loved the gentle, self-renoun- 
cing child ; and now her devotion in illness, regard- 
less of all consequences to herself, and at a time 
when she had been most deeply tried, strengthened 
the affection of the step-mother, and deepened it 
into something very like veneration. She was 
aware of Madeleine's attachment for M6re Angel- 
ique, but she had never for a moment supposed 
that it would be carried to such an extent as to in- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


277 

duce her to leave her native land. She felt that 
her daughter’s presence would be a help and sup- 
port to her in the new life which she proposed to 
lead ; but when she saw how much Madeleine de- 
sired to follow her beloved friend, she generously 
resolved to sacrifice her wishes. In a few days all 
was arranged ; and, though the Mfere Angelique 
hesitated a little about receiving Madeleine in her 
delicate state of health, still, she felt it would be 
cruel to refuse her earnest petition at least to allow 
her to make a trial of her strength and her long- 
cherished vocation. The good Abbe willingly 
offered to accompany his niece to England. His 
anxieties about her would be at an end when 
he had consigned her to the care of the gentle 
Abbess, whom he had also watched from child- 
hood. 

‘‘ Now, Madeleine, your journey is ended ! ” he 
exclaimed, as the cab drew up suddenly at a house 
in no way distinguished from its neighbors, except, 
perhaps, by a little extra brightness in the brasses 
on the door, and a little extra cleanness in the steps 
and pavement. Mere Angelique was watching for 
the arrival of the travelers ; and in a moment 
Madeleine found herself in her arms. She would 
have knelt for a blessing, but the young Abbess 
gently drew her from her knees, expostulating: 


278 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


You are not a nun, yet, Madeleine, and my office 
does not extend to seculars ! '' 

Madeleine pleaded that, if she was not a nun, she 
w^as her child, and had a right to the boon she 
craved. But the Mhre Angelique turned gently to 
the Abbe, and, kneeling as she spoke, drew Made- 
leine beside her, exclaiming : ‘‘ My father, you 
must bless us both ! and thus the loving contention 
was ended. 

And now, father,” continued the Abbess, as she 
rose from her knees, ‘‘ I am sure you and Madeleine 
will like to come for a few moments to our little 
chapel, while our good lay sister is preparing your 
dinner. It is a poor place for our dear Lord,” she 
said, as a passing shade of sorrow clouded for a 
moment her beautiful, calm face ; but we try to 
keep Him more in our hearts, to console Him, or 
rather to console ourselves, for this temporary 
trial.’' 

The chapel was simply the best room in the 
house, which other persons would have used for a 
drawing-room. But the religious had a very Royal 
guest to entertain, and so they gave Him the best 
apartment they could, and never even regretted 
that they had the worst for themselves. It was, as 
we have said, the eve of the month of May, and the 
Tabernacle was as richly adorned as its poor pos- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


279 

sessors could afford. There was also a little side- 
altar, where stood an image of a Lady, the Mother 
of Him who lay in that Tabernacle, as silent, as un- 
complaining, and as obscure as when He slept a Babe 
in her sinless arms. There was a crown upon the 
Lady's head, and flowers lay at her feet ; for it never 
occurred to the religious that they could honor 
Jesus more by loving His Mother less. 

And yet it was not to Mary that the Abbe knelt 
when he entered the little chapel. His God was 
there, his dear God, whom he had loved and served 
these sixty years; for the Abbe was an old man 
now, and his hair was white. He knelt just in front 
of the Tabernacle, and his eyes were fixed on it as 
if it contained some treasure that he would fain 
ravish into his very soul. He murmured to him- 
self as he prayed, now in his own native tongue, 
and noAv in the almost dearer language of the 
Church. Yes, yes ! " he said, softly ; ‘‘ truly where 
Thou art, oh my God, there, there is home ! " 

It was his first visit to England, and everything 
looked cold and strange. But now he was at home ; 
he was in his Father's house. Jesus was in London 
as well as in sunny France, and France would not 
be sunny if Jesus were not there, and England 
could scarcely be dark where the light of His 
presence shone from the Tabernacle. 


28 o horne-hurst rector f. 

He did not pray for Madeleine ; he had almost 
forgotten her. No wonder, for it was three days 
since he had been where his Lord was sacramentally 
present. But his desire was known, and was as 
effectually heard and answered as if the petition 
had been uttered. For silence is the eloquence of 
love. 

The young Abbess was praying, too. There was 
a beautiful fear in her prayer, which, in truth, is 
but another form of deepest tenderness. A new 
soul was given to her that day to train for the celes- 
tial Bridegroom, and she trembled lest, through 
her unworthiness, it might not be fitted for its high 
and glorious destiny. But in her deep humility 
she satisfied herself with the thought that she had 
been chosen by the will of God, through the voice 
of her sisters and the sanction of her superiors, for 
her office, and that He would Himself supply all 
that was deficient in her toward His spouses. Still 
she bowed herself lower at His feet, and yet more 
earnestly asked His grace ; for true trustfulness in 
God could not hinder her from a holy fear lest she 
should fail in her duty, and a blessed anxiety per- 
fectly to fulfill it. 

And Madeleine, who had loved so much, and 
suffered so much for her love? Ah! she also spoke 
to the Beloved One, and murmured out her young 


HORNE‘HURST RECTOR F. 


281 


heart’s joy as only they can do who, like her, love 
the more deeply with every breath they draw. 
She had no words to tell her love, for it was part 
of herself, of her every being. She was silent, but 
her silence had a thousand voices, and told itself 
with unspeakable melody to the listening ear of 
her thrice-beloved Spouse. 

‘‘ It is the last day of April,” whispered the Mfere 
Angelique, gently, as they rose to leave the chapel ; 

and we have done the best we could for the 
month of May.” The Abbe and Madeleine ap- 
proached the little altar. Yes, Mary was there, too, 
as well as in France, and they were quite at home. 
They knelt a few moments to place themselves 
under the protection of the Immaculate, and then, 
kneeling once more before the altar of Jesus, left 
the chapel. 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

“ God sent his singers upon earth, 

With songs of sadness and of mirth, 

That they might touch the hearts of men. 

And bring them back to Heaven again/’ 

— Longfellow. 

T was late in the day before Kate Ross- 
more and her friend arrived in London. 
When they reached home, the servant in- 
formed them that Lady Rossmore had gone to spend 
the evening at Mrs. Hillier's, and begged they would 
not remain up for her, as she was sure they would 
be fatigued from their journey. The intelligence 
was by no means disagreeable to either of the 
young ladies, who much preferred a quiet tete-a-tete 
to the necessity of doing manners to her lady- 
ship, and listening to her evangelical gossip. 

I must take you to see Ethel to-morrow, Ger- 
trude,” said Catherine, when they had seated them- 
selves by a warm fire, which their long journey 
had made very acceptable, though it was May. ‘‘ I 

(282) 



HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


283 


think you almost know her from all I have said of 
her, and she is quite acquainted with you, I assure 
you, through Mr. Mordaunt.'' 

I did not know he was any relation of theirs,’' 
replied Gertrude, calmly, though the name almost 
brought tears to her eyes. 

‘‘ No relation, I think, but a great friend. All 
the High Church party are more or less intimate, 
except, indeed, Dr. Humbletone, who, they say, 
has been so much occupied with Miss Dobbs since 
she began her sisterhood that they see very little 
of him. But, Gerty, I wish you would tell me 
now more about yourself. The conversation we 
had the day before we left Horne-hurst has puz- 
zled me sadly. I am supposed to be very High 
Church — in fact, according to Mrs. Hillier, on the 
ver}’- verge of Popery, rushing into the arms of Anti- 
Christ. But it seems to me that you have got far 
beyond me in that quiet country parsonage of 
yours, and with your dear and truly, in the best 
sense of the word, evangelical family.” 

I will tell you all, Katie ; and in truth I have 
longed to do it, but, as you know, there was no 
opportunity until now. I have broken my engage- 
ment with Mr. Mordaunt.” Catherine started, as 
well she might. ‘‘ Or, rather,” she continued, 
scarcely noticing the interruption, I have freed 


284 HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 

him from his engagement to me. Catherine, I 
could not marry him if he remains a priest.’' 

But why, Gertrude ? I really am at a loss to 
understand you. Your position at home must be 
a painful one, kind and loving as your parents are ; 
and, perhaps, all the more trying from their very 
goodness. Mr. Mordaunt thinks as you do on re- 
ligious matters, and by marrying him you are at 
once free from all these difficulties. Of course, 
I know that St. Paul says virginity is a higher, 
and may be, a holier state than marriage ; but it is 
not the custom of our church, and those who are 
trying to restore it to its primitive state are mostly 
opposed to it. Dr. Humbletone is married ; Mr. 
Langdale is a widower ; Mr. Grant is engaged to 
a daughter of Mr. Weymouth, and will be married, 
I believe, next month ; and Mr. Slingsby — no, he 
is not married, but then I do not think it is from 
any scruples about it. What a pity we cannot put 
Edward into Mr. Mordaunt’s position, and Mr. 
Mordaunt into Edward’s ! It would save us both 
a great man)^ heart-aches. After all,” she con- 
tinued, attempting a cheerfulness she did not really 
feel, it is a most novel-like affair, and any one 
who did not know us all, well might think we had 
got up a romance for the pure love of the thing, and 
were making ourselves miserable to be heroines.” 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


285 


‘‘ The charge could hardly be fastened on you, 
Katie, for I believe you would rather Edward was 
a clergyman, independently of the trial of parting 
from him. Do you know, Kate, I often thought 
if you had not been engaged to him, you would 
have joined Miss Dobbs, you are so fond of visiting 
the poor. I think a sister's life would be just your 
element." 

‘‘ Perhaps so," replied Catherine, sadly, ‘‘ but as 
I am to marry, it is not much use to conjecture 
what might have been under other circumstances. 
Poor Edward !" she exclaimed, after a moment's 
pause, giving way to the grief she had tried so 
hard to smother ; poor Edward ! God knows if 
we shall ever meet again. Gertrude, I know not 
how it is, but I have always had a strange presenti- 
ment that we would never be united. I cannot 
account for it ; I try not to think of it ; but still the 
impression is there and as she spoke she laid her 
hand on her heart. 

Katie, this is romance, indeed !" exclaimed Ger- 
trude ; but Katie's head was buried between her 
hands, and a flood of tears told that her romance, 
if such it was, had within it a store of deepest suf- 
fering, and of suffering not lightly to be soothed 
or easily to be borne. 

There had been a deep religious feeling in Miss 


286 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


Rossmore’s heart from her very earliest childhood, 
and it wove itself in with every action of her life. 
It was a personal religiousness, if we may be al- 
lowed the expression, which was a part of her very 
being, and gave a tone, not only to all her actions, 
but to every exterior circumstance of her life. 
Gertrude knew this. Her own religious feelings 
were scarcely less deep, and she was not surprised 
to hear Katie murmur softly : 

“Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee ; 

E’en though it be a cross 
That raiseth me ; 

Still, all my cry shall be — 

Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee.” 

Yes, Gertrude,** she said, disengaging herself from 
her friend*s long embrace, I have said it on my 
knees day after day, and I say it now with my 
whole heart: ‘Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer 
to Thee, e*en though it be a cross that raiseth me.* 
But, oh, my God ! let me not have the cross with- 
out the nearness. I know not how it will come, or 
when it will come, only I know how I long and 
pine to be nearer to Him. Oh, Gertrude ! there is 
something in my soul that craves and asks I know 
not what, but He knows, Gertrude, and He will 
give it.” 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


287 


Yes, Katie, I have felt it, too. Charlie laughs 
at me, and says I have turned romantic, and Mary 
looks serious and rather shocked at my sentimen- 
tality. But perhaps every one feels it whose tem- 
perament is naturally sensitive. Is it Shelley or 
Hood, who says : 


“We look before and after, 

And pine for what is not ; 

Our sincerest laughter 
With some pain is fraught, 

Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought?” 

“Yes, I remember the lines, they are Shelley's, 
and from his Ode to a Skylark. But, Gertrude, I 
think there is a great difference between what we 
feel, and that dreamy sorrow that what are called 
poetical minds so often complain of. I must con- 
fess my longings are more or less material ; and 
yet I do not mean this in the ordinary acceptation 
of the word. I crave something that shall be at 
once both real and spiritual. Something which 
shall satisfy a soul that lives on earth, and yet is 
destined for andmmortality in Heaven." 

“ Yes, Katie ; but it always seems to me that the 
spiritual is the real. We know that an angel could 
enter this room at this moment, and leave it again 
unimpeded by our material doors and windows. 
Yet if those doors and windows were of gold 


288 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 

would not more than half our fellow-creatures 
consider them far more real than that spiritual 
being whose existence will be eternal, and who 
will gaze on the gold and glory of earth passing 
away forever beneath the fires of the Day of Doom ? 
Oh, Katie! I always deeply pity a person of a 
poetical temperament. Surely they are nearer the 
spiritual, and therefore nearer that which is truly 
real, than the raiser who hoards a store that will 
one day perish, or the profligate who degrades 
himself and human nature by vices that place him 
below the level of the brute creation ; and yet they 
suffer a mental torture as far beyond the compre- 
hension of their fellows as their sublime aspirings. 
Shelley, Keats, Byron, what are their lives and 
their poems but one great sorrow ; ^ pining for 
what is not ?’ and yet surely if the spiritual is the 
real, God must have provided that for which they 
unconsciously pined.*’ 

A very pretty speech for the daughter of an 
Evangelical clergyman,” replied Katie, trying to 
give the conversation a more lively turn. “Your 
good father would have advised them to foreswear 
poetry, read the Bible, go to church on Sunday, do 
no harm to any one, and if that did not make them 
happy it would be their own fault.” 

Gertrude smiled. “Yes, it is just what papa 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


289 


would say ; but, Katie, there must be more than 
this. It may satisfy him because he does not wish 
for more, just as he thinks it absurd for people to wish 
to go to confession because he has never done it him- 
self. Perhaps, Katie,’' she continued, after a pause, 

perhaps this would have satisfied them. I mean 
at least give them rest, had they known of it.” 

Katie laughed outright, and her merry peal 
sounded so like what it had been in old times” — yes, 
even young girls have old times” — that Gertrude 
caught the infection and laughed too. 

“ What, go to confession !” exclaimed Katie, as 
soon as she had recovered her gravity sufficiently to 
speak. “ Oh, Gertrude, how absurd ! Imagine 
Lord Byron or Percy Bysshe Shelley going to con- 
fession ! Would you advise them to go to Dr. 
Humbletone or Mr. Langdale, or perhaps Mr. 
Mordaunt?” 

‘‘Indeed, Katie, -you misunderstood me. Per- 
haps I did not express myself very clearly. I did 
not mean literally going to confession. I meant 
that if they had lived now, perhaps they would have 
found an object of interest in the revival in our 
church, food for poetic thought, and consolation for 
their spiritual cravings in our serious and more 
Catholic views.” 

“ Certainly,” replied Katie. “ I think it would be 

13 


290 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


more attractive, to such minds, than the cold for- 
mality of the church of their day. But I question, 
even if it had satisfied them, whether it would have 
made them less sad. Do you know, Gertrude, I 
have remarked for a long time, and it is a curious 
fact, that the more High Church any one becomes, 
the more sad they become. Mr. Langdale, and 
Ethel, and Dr. Humbletone, they are all the same. 
They seem afraid to laugh, and their very smile is 
full of grief 

Yes, I have noticed it, too, Katie, and I have 
observed it both in you and in myself. But Mr. 
Mordaunt always says it should be so, and that we 
have no right to enjoyment in a world that lies 
under a curse.'* 

“ And yet St. Paul says, ‘ Rejoice in the Lord 
alway : and again I say. Rejoice.' I wonder which 
is right." 

‘‘ Perhaps rejoicing in the Lord only means that 
we should be happy in our minds ; but, Katie, I must 
confess I do not think their minds are really at 
rest, or their countenances would have a more 
peaceful expression." 

A loud knock at the door and a rattling of car- 
riage wheels announced that Lady Rossmore had 
returned. Catherine hastily extinguished the lamp, 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


291 


and both stole softly and quickly to their respec- 
tive rooms, anxious to escape an interview that 
night. 

They neejd not have been uneasy, for her lady- 
ship retired to her apartment without even enquir- 
ing whether they had arrived. On entering her 
room she gave one long look at herself in her large 
mirror, and apparently was satisfied with the sur- 
vey ; though before retiring to rest, she desired her 
maid to have a message sent next morning before 
breakfast to her milliner, requiring her attendance 
at an early hour. 

As soon as Lady Rossmore's door had closed, 
Katie stole softly to her friend's room. Gertrude 
was sitting by the fire, apparently but little inclined 
to undress. 

You must be weary with your journey, Ger- 
trude. Do lie down as soon as you can. You may 
be sure mamma will not appear at breakfast to- 
morrow, and we can continue our conversation un- 
interrupted/' 

Are you going to bed now ?" replied Gertrude, 
without moving from her seat. 

That means, if I am not, will I stay here, Gerty. 
s it not so ?" she continued, placing her arm caress- 
iigly on her friend. 

'‘Yes, Katie, I wish you would stay. I want to 


2g2 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


talk to you about several things, and it is so much 
easier at night/' 

Catherine seated herself quietly beside her friend, 
and waited for her to continue the conversation. 

Do you remember, Katie, my asking you about 
going to confession the day before we left home ? 
It is that I want to speak about. It must be a very 
serious thing. I would like to know more about it." 

Catherine looked grave and thoughtful for a few 
moments. ‘‘Gerty, I will answer your question 
about myself now. Nay, dearest, you need not try 
to prevent me. I know that is not what you intend- 
ed, but it will perhaps help us both, and I have no 
objection to speak of it now; in fact, I would rather 
do so." 

‘‘Well, Katie, as you are not unwilling, I must 
confess I would like to hear your experience of the 
matter. I have thought of it so long and so anx- 
iously, ever since Mr. Mordaunt came to Sayton- 
mere. I so often wished for the opportunity of going 
to confession, but now that it seems possible, I ac- 
tually dread it." 

“ But why did you not do so? Surely Mr. Mor- 
daunt " 

“ Katie, it is my turn to laugh now. How could 
I go to confession to him w^hen we were engaged 
to be married ?" 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


293 


‘^True/’ replied Catherine, sighing, I forgot 
that; and your father of course was out of the 
question. But, Gerty, what do you wish to do 
now ?” 

I scarcely know, Katie. I would like to see 
Dr. Humbletone very much, and then perhaps'’ — 
she paused and hesitated, ‘‘ perhaps I might go to 
confession to him.” 

*‘Well, Gertrude, we will both see Mr. Lang- 
dale to-morrow. I have never had the courage to 
go to confession yet myself ; but I must do it,” she 
continued, with the air of one who has taken a 
desperate resolution, and was nerving herself to 
carry it out. I think I would like to go to Dr. 
Humbletone myself ; for though I am greatly attach- 
ed to Mr. Langdale, I would prefer a stranger. 
Ethel will tell us when the Doctor will be London. 
And now, Gertrude, indeed we must say good- 
night, or neither of us will be fit for anything to- 
morrow.” 




CHAPTER XIX. 

“ Come, take my advice, never trouble your cranium, 

When ‘ civil advantages ’ are to be gained. 

What god or what goddess may help to obtain you ’em, 
Hindoo or Chinese, so they’re only obtained. 

In this world (let me hint in your organ auricular) 

All the good things to good hypocrites fall ; 

And he, who in swallowing creeds is particular, 

Soon will have nothing to swallow at all.” 

— Moore’s Satirical Poems, 

T will be a charming party, my dear, I 
assure you, and I have promised that 
you and your friend will come, so I 
really can take no excuse. Dr. Thundertone — 
(Lady Rossmore blushed slightly, very slightly, as 
she mentioned his name,) Dr. Thundertone will 
be there, and your old admirer. Sir Timothy Tad- 
pole, and, in fact, all the dite of the evangelical 
world. You know, my dear,*' she continued, turn- 
ing to Gertrude with an air intended to be at once 
amiable and patronizing, but which, nevertheless, 
(294) 



HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


295 


implied a mild consciousness of her own enlighten- 
ment and a slight contempt for the supposed ignor- 
ance of the individual she was addressing ; you 
know, my dear, it is May, the month of May, and 
really quite the gay season for us. There are meet- 
ings every day at Exeter Hall for all sorts of pious 
purposes. Even the Unitarians and Quakers join 
us. But this year will be specially signalized by a 
meeting of the Evangelical Alliance, quite a splen- 
did thing, all sects agreeing to merge their little 
differences and unite in the common cause. Sir 
Timothy Tadpole is, 1 may say, the presiding 
genius of the Association, and Dr. Thundertone its 
pillar.'' 

‘‘ But, mamma, the dinner-party will be on a Fri- 
day, when, you know, I never take meat, and I 
have always refused invitations on that day for this 
reason ; so you see it will be quite impossible for me 
to go, and I am sure Gertrude would prefer remain- 
ing at home also." 

It is very unfortunate, my dear, very unfortu- 
nate ! Really these new-fashioned notions of yours 
have made you dreadfully unsociiable. But, my dear, 
I have promised that you will go, and I am sure I 
cannot see what harm it can do you to eat meat for 
one Friday to please your mother ; but obedience to 
parents seems not to have entered into this new 


296 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


religion. Mrs. Hillier was telling me some painful 
instances of it yesterday. She said if she were your 
mother, she would positively forbid your attend- 
ance at Mr. Langdale's church. And another lady, 
a ver}" nice person — I quite forget her name — de- 
clared if a child of hers ever dared attempt any such 
Popish practices, she would lock her up in her 
room for a month, and give her nothing but bread 
and water.’' 

A pleasant specimen of Protestant liberty of 
conscience ! ” replied Miss Rossmore, haughtily. 
“ If these are the persons, mamma, to whom you 
wish to introduce me, I must beg to decline their 
acquaintance.” 

Really, my dear, you are so hot, there is no 
speaking a word to you. I hope your friend is not 
infected with your opinions, and will assist your 
mother in making you a little more rational and 
agreeable. I trust. Miss Helmore, your excellent 
father and mother have not allowed you to be con- 
taminated by Popish doctrines ? ” 

Gertrude blushed deeply. She did not wish to 
be untruthful, neither did she like openly to avow 
herself High Church. After a moment’s hesitation 
she replied, gently: scarcely know what your 

ladyship may consider Popish, but, I must confess, 
I like the daily service, and wish to practise all that 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


297 


our Church requires and teaches ; and I suppose as 
it has been purged from the errors of the Romish 
communion, its practices can scarcely be called 
Popish/' 

It depends, my dear, entirely on what they 
are," replied Lady Rossmore, patronizingly. She 
had mistaken Gertrude's gentle manner for defer- 
ence to her opinion, and was not a little flattered 
by it. There were a great many things retained 
by our reformers which were intended to be done 
away with afterwards, and those, of course, should 
not be revived again. I mean such things as fast 
days and feast days, confirmation, which is quite a 
remnant of Popery, and the visitation service for 
the sick, which has really dreadful things in it — I 
mean, about confession." 

Gertrude colored deeply. She was quite unac- 
customed to such language, and totally at a loss 
how to reply to it. Catherine saw her embarrass- 
ment, and hastened to relieve it. 

But, mamma, if the visitation service be wrong, 
the ordination service is worse, and surely you 
would not have that done away with ? The words 
are most explicit ! " 

Indeed, my dear Catherine, I think them very 
wrong and very Popish, only, of course, there is no 
meaning in them, or at least, no one understands 

13^ 


298 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


that the bishop really intends to give power to the 
minister to forgive sins. It is a mere form of words ; 
but still, my dear, I think it wrong. Dr. Thunder- 
tone says he thinks of establishing a Free Church 
in England himself, and really it will be quite 
charming. The sound parts of the prayer-book 
could be used. Many people, who are accustomed 
to it and would not like extemporary prayer for a 
continuance, would attend such a church. Of 
course, the occasional services would never be read, 
nor the Athanasian Creed. In fact, the minister 
could be perfectly free, and could alter or omit as 
he thought best. The difficulty would be to get 
the church built, and find a minister whose preach- 
ing would give general satisfaction.'' 

‘‘ And pray, mamma, who is to ordain a clergy- 
man for this new form of dissent ? " 

My dear, it would not be dissent at all ; that is 
just what I am trying to impress on you. Personal- 
ly, I dislike dissent, myself, very much. Indeed, it is 
hardly respectable, and Dr. Thundertone acknowl- 
edged this to me the other day, but only in the 
strictest confidence. We should still have all that 
is really evangelical in the church, without its 
errors, and — " 

But, mamma, I should like to know what bishop 
would sanction such a proceeding, and if they did 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


299 

not ordain the clergyman, surely no one could con- 
sider him anything but a dissenter ? '' 

A mere matter of opinion, Catherine ! Ordina- 
tion is only a ceremony. Any one can pray over 
another person who is appointed to a church ; and 
as for the approval of our bishops, really, my dear, 
)/ou should be the last person to speak of it, for 
every one knows that they highly disapprove, and 
have constantly expressed their disapproval, of the 
opinions and practices of your party.’' 

Catherine was silent. She knew what her mother 
said was but too true, and, anxious to escape fur- 
ther discussion, she rose from the breakfast-table. 
As she was leaving the room with Gertrude H el- 
more, her mother’s voice recalled her — I will see 
Mrs. Hillier this morning, my dear, and will accept 
the invitation for you and your friend.” 

‘‘ Certainly not, mamma, unless you wish to ex- 
pose both your daughter and yourself to the 
ridicule of the party. I will not eat meat, and you 
know very well what will be said if I do not.” 

Really, Catherine, this is very unfortunate. If 
people were not aware of your Romish tendencies, 
it would pass unnoticed. I believe there are some 
dissenters who fast occasionally, and, of course, it 
would be no harm to do without meat any day in 
the week, except Friday. It might pass for a mere 


300 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


peculiarity. But to abstain on that day is quite 
Popish, my dear — quite. Would it not do as well 
to do without wine ? Dr. Thundertone was telling- 
me the other day of some sect of dissenters — Bible 
Christians, I think, he called them — who never use 
wine at all, even at communion. They have some 
idea that it is unscriptural — very absurd, of course 
— and Dr. Thundertone thinks so; but as it is not 
at all Popish — . My dear, what ! Are you laugh- 
ing at it ? Really, Catherine — Miss Helmore — this 
is intolerable ! '' 

But the young ladies had taken refuge in flight. 
An uncontrollable fit of laughter had seized them 
both, and, unable to subdue it, or to resume the 
appearance of gravity which Lady Rossmore evi- 
dently expected, they closed the door abruptly, 
where they had been standing for the last ten min- 
utes, and retired. 

Would it not be better to go to this party, 
Katie?’' said Gertrude, when they had reached 
her room ; your mamma seems so bent on it ; and 
after all, it would be no harm to eat meat for one 
Friday.” 

I would ask Mr. Langdale about it, Gertrude, 
only I am sure it would be better not to go. Mam- 
ma has gone out a great deal more since my poor 
father’s death ; and if I onpe accompanied her to 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


301 


any of these evangelical parties, I would have no 
peace. You have no idea what they are. The 
whole conversation now, is either the alarming 
progress of Popery, of which, in my absence, I 
have no doubt I am held up as an example ; or on 
this charming new Evangelical Alliance, which is to 
convert the world, and spread the gospel to every 
part of it, always provided that its associates do 
not disagree as to what the gospel is, or how much 
of it is necessary for salvation.’' 

Well, Katie, you know best. It will be a good 
escape, at all events, for us both ; for, I suppose, if 
you went I should be obliged to accompany you.” 

I have been thinking, Gertrude,” said Katie, 
after a few moments’ pause, that perhaps it would 
be better for me to go to Mr. Langdale without 
you this morning. You must be very anxious to 
see Dr. Humbletone, when so much depends on it, 
and I could better ascertain, by seeing Ethel alone, 
when he will be in London, and how it can be 
managed when he does come ; besides, I must see 
Mr. Langdale by himself, and you might not like 
waiting in a strange house, for, perhaps, poor Ethel 
might be too ill to have you with her.” 

'' It is just what I would wish, Katie ; and, in- 
deed, I am too anxious and too nervous this morn- 
ing to see any one. Leave me here with a book, 


302 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


and I will promise you not to feel lonely, however 
long your absence may be/’ 


CHAPTER XX. 

“ There is no intolerance so intolerable as that of those who 
clamor most loudly for religious liberty.’* 

ISS ETHEL is very ill, ma’am ; but I 
think she would like to see you. Martha 
says she is always speaking of you, and 
wishing you were at home.” 

I would like to see Mr. Langdale first, Jane, if 
he is not engaged ; and you could tell Miss 'Ethel 
I am here, and that I will go to her room after I 
have seen her papa.” 

Mr. Langdale was at home. Katie knew his 
hours very well, and came when she expected to 
find him comparatively disengaged. In a few mo- 
ments she was in his study, that dear, well-remem- 
bered room. A surplice lay on a chair, as if it 
were required for occasional use ; and there was a 
very small table in a dark corner, with a cross on 




HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


303 

it, and a chair beside it, evidently prepared for 
some special purpose. 

Katie felt her heart beat audibly. How could 
she speak about confession to Mr. Langdale, while 
he sat there opposite to her, looking so kindly, but 
steadily, in her face. She tried to move her chair 
as if the sun was in her eyes, but there was no sun, 
unfortunately, that morning. Nearly half an hour 
passed away. She had spoken of her own trial in 
parting with Edward Helmore ; of Ethel’s illness, 
which seemed to be very serious. Her lungs were 
affected, Mr. Langdale said, and he feared the worst 
consequences. At last she was about to rise, and 
leave the room, thinking it would be better to 
write to Mr. Langdale on the subject, a plan she 
wondered had not occurred to her before— it would 
remove half the difficulty, and would make it far 
easier to speak of it afterwards, when a low knock 
summoned the clergyman to the door. It was 
Jane, who brought a note, which she said required 
an immediate answer. Mr. Langdale took the let- 
ter from her himself. It was a strict rule in the 
house, and rigidly enforced, that no servant was 
ever, under any circumstances, to enter his study. 
If they had a message to give, they could knock ; 
but if they received no reply, they were on no ac- 
count to open the door ; even if Mr. Langdale was 


304 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


in the room, they could not come in, as he always 
answered the summons himself. 

Mr. Langdale apologized to Katie for reading 
the letter while she was there ; but begged her to 
remain, as he wished to have more conversation 
with her before she left. The communication ap- 
peared to be of some importance. He read the 
note twice. At first Katie thought he was amused, 
but when she glanced at his face, as he laid the 
letter on the table, he looked more than usually 
serious. 

This is from your mother, Katie,*' He always 
called her Katie now, particularly since her father’s 
death. I think you had better read it, and we 
can consult together before I reply.” 

Poor Catherine’s face became crimson, and then 
deadly pale. What could her mother mean by 
writing to Mr. Langdale ? Her hand trembled so 
that she could scarcely hold the note. 

My child, there is nothing to be distressed 
about,” said Mr. Langdale, kindly ; “ at first I was 
inclined to laugh at the whole affair, and would 
scarcely have told you of it, only I could not 
see my way how to act, without consulting you 
first.” 

But the kindness was almost harder to bear than 
the anxiety, and she burst into tears. Her nerves 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


305 


had been painfully tried during the last few days, 
and a reaction must always follow. Mr. Langdale 
rang the bell, and when the servant knocked at the 
door, desired her, in a whisper, to bring some wine 
quickly. Now, my child, you must gratify me 
by taking this,'' he said. ^‘You have suffered a 
great deal the last few days — indeed, I might say 
the last few years. Nay, Katie, I must not be re- 
fused ; if you will not take it to please me, do so, 
at least, for the love of holy obedience." 

‘‘ You are too kind," she murmured, taking the 
offered refreshment, and then endeavoring to read 
her mother's letter, which certainly was an original 
production. 

Reverend and Dear Sir : 

Having requested my daughter to accept an in- 
vitation to a dinner-party on Friday, I am informed 
by her that she cannot accompany me, because on 
this day she never eats meat. I have overlooked 
this peculiarity of hers at home ; but as I particu- 
larly wish her to accept this invitation, I must re- 
quest that you will exercise your influence, or 
authority, and endeavor to convince her that obedi- 
ence to the Fifth Commandment is far more in ac- 
cordance with filial duty, and more acceptable to 
God, than an imaginary devotion, a remnant of 


3o6 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


Popery, and no part of the teaching of our pure 
Evangelical Reformed Church. 

‘‘ I remain, Reverend Sir, yours faithfully, 

'‘Judith Rossmore. 

" P. S. — Should your influence fail, I must alto- 
gether forbid my daughter to frequent your church, 
or hold any communication with your family. 
Excuse my plain speaking ; but Miss Rossmore’s 
conduct towards me, since she has been under your 
ministry, is such as to show that the nature of the 
teaching she has received leads her to rest in mere 
forms, to despise her mother, and to consider her- 
self as vastly superior to every one else. I trust it 
will not end in open Popery ; but if it be so, you 
alone will be responsible. J. R.'' 

Now, Katie,’’ observed Mr. Langdale, as she 
returned the letter, " we are both in a difficult 
position. You have not given me direct authority 
to guide you,” he continued, slowly and emphati- 
cally ; " but, as your parish priest, I can advise 
you.” 

Katie knew perfectly well what he meant ; but 
she was more than ever determined, if she went to 
confession at all, that it should be to Dr. Humble- 
tone. Mr. Langdale was comparatively a young 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


307 


practitioner, and she felt like a person about to un- 
dergo a painful operation, who would prefer an 
old experienced hand. 

‘‘ Whatever may be your advice, Mr. Langdale, 
I will follow it,’' she replied, cautiously avoiding 
any allusion to the former part of his remark. 

Mr. Langdale looked disappointed, but he an- 
swered quietly : Well, Katie, I will tell you what 
I think, though I fear you will scarcely like it : my 
advice is that you should go to this dinner-party, 
as your mother is so anxious about it ; but, deci- 
dedly, you should abstain from meat. If you can 
do so unobserved, so much the better ; but if it is 
remarked, do not concern yourself ; we can scarcely 
carry out this revival in the church without suffer- 
ing persecution. Our divine Lord has foretold 
that it should be so ; and even that the foes should 
be those of our own household.” 

But what will I say to mamma ; shall I tell her 
I have seen you ?” 

Mr. Langdale did not reply for a few moments. 

Yes, I think it would be best so ; she knows you 
are often here. But by no means let her suppose 
that you have asked me seriously about it. We 
must be most careful to conceal anything like di- 
rection. It would do positive and most serious 
harm to the movement, if it were generally known 


3o8 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


that we practise confession ; and yet, even this 
would be more easily tolerated than anything like 
what we call direction, or spiritual guidance, but 
what other people would consider interference with 
family affairs/' 

I will be careful," replied Katie ; but, really, 
it is very difficult to conceal things this way. 
When I try only to say half the truth, I am sure 
to add or omit something that should or should 
not be said. Really, Mr. Langdale, I think it would 
be far better to be straightforward ; I am sure peo- 
ple would be better satisfied in the end, and would 
misjudge us less easily." 

There was a simplicity and child-like earnestness 
in the way Katie spoke, which almost made Mr. 
Langdale smile, but he checked himself in a mo- 
ment, and replied sternly : 

Katie, learn to obey those that have the rule 
over you, and beware of questioning their advice 
or authority. If I were your spiritual guide (he 
did not like to use the word confessor; the Hum- 
bletonians were all very shy of it, unless between 
the leaders, and in very strict confidence, when it 
was ventured on in a hesitating manner, but with 
evident gratification, much as a child sucks a sugar- 
plum, the ownership of which is doubtful), if I 
were your spiritual guide, I would consider you 


HCmNE-HURST RECTORY. 


309 . 


should perform some penance for your thoughtless 
words. Once you begin to question and argue, 
you case is hopeless, and you will end in apostacy 
or worse.’' 

Katie’s eyes filled with tears. It was the first 
time Mr. Langdale had spoken to her so sharply, 
and she felt deeply pained. What to reply she 
knew not ; and yet, she did not like to leave him 
without some further explanation ; besides, the 
great object of her visit had as yet been quite 
overlooked. Mr. Langdale suspected what was 
passing in her mind, but he allowed her to remain 
a few moments in suspense, anxious to deepen the 
impression which he hoped he had made. 

The pause seemed an age to Catherine ; but at 
last Mr. Langdale spoke : 

‘‘ I am sure Ethel would like to see you, Katie, 
if you can spare time from your friend to visit her. 
She is very ill, poor child ! God knows if she will 
be spared long to us.” 

I would like to see her very much, indeed,” 
replied Catherine, brightening a little, notwith- 
standing the sorrow Mr. Langdale’s last words 
gave her. I want to know when Dr. Humbletone 
is coming,” she continued, making a great effort, 
and speaking very hurriedly ; Miss Helmore is 
very anxious to have an interview with him ; and. 


310 


HORNE-HURST RECTJ)RY, 


and, I would wish — that is, I would like — I mean, 
of course, if you do not think it wrong, to see him 
myself, for confession/' 

The desperate deed had been done, and she 
paused to breathe and to hear Mr. Langdale's re- 
ply. He opened a Prayer-book which lay near 
him on the table : 

You are free, Katie, of course, to act as you 
please. You can ‘come to mey' he continued, 
quoting from the exhortation in the communion 
service, always read by the High Church Party, 
and always omitted by their Evangelical brethren ; 
“ you can ‘ come to me^ or to some other discreet 
and learned minister of God's word, and open your 
grief.' " 

The words were coldly and sternly said, and 
there was an unmistakable emphasis on the “ me," 
which plainly told what Mr. Langdale really 
thought. Katie felt more uncomfortable than ever. 
She saw there would be a barrier between her and 
her parish clergyman, which would be keenly felt 
by both ; but her determination was unalterable, 
and she was glad that one great difficulty was 
overcome. 

Poor Katie ! Had she been the child of Catholic 
parents, and taught that the Sacrament of Penance 
was not only the means appointed by Christ for 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


31I 


the forgiveness of sin, but also a channel of in- 
creased sanctifying grace to the soul, what trials 
she would have been spared ; what peace and rest 
she would have found, even amid daily crosses ; 
what strength to resist sin and to conquer tempta- 
tion ! 

Mr. Langdale was not the only one of his party 
who thought Dr. Humbletone an intruder in his 
capacity of itinerating confessor. Naturally enough, 
these High Church clergymen wished their par- 
ishioners to confess to themselves. It would give 
them more influence and more practice. Besides, 
it was intensely humiliating to be passed over in 
this way. Many of them had never heard a con- 
fession in their lives, much as they wished to do 
so ; while those who were more successful, could 
only number perhaps five or six, or, at the very 
most, twenty or thirty of their congregation, who 
availed themselves of their spiritual guidance. 
Mr. Langdale had felt it long and bitterly ; but the 
trial had now come to him in a more painful way 
than ever. Katie knew nothing of the Doctor, ex- 
cept by reputation ; she had been a constant visitor 
at Mr. Langdale's ; she had trustfully and lovingly 
confided to him all her trials and difficulties, and 
had been guided by his advice ; why should she 
shrink from opening the secrets of her heart still 


312 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


further to him ? The question would have per- 
plexed herself if it had been asked her. 

In a few moments, however, she had almost for- 
gotten her own trials, in anxiety for her friend. 
Ethel was, indeed, seriously ill, even more so than 
her father’s apprehensions foreboded. 

She raised herself on her couch when Katie en- 
tered, and tried to sit up. But the effort was too 
much for her failing strength, and in a moment 
she fell back, exhausted. 

Katie darling, I am so glad you are at home 
again ! ” she murmured, as her friend approached. 

Poor Katie ! Her affections were sometimes be- 
yond her control, and she could only bury her face 
in Ethel’s pillow and sob aloud. 

Poor Katie, poor Katie ! ” whispered the invalid, 
soothingly, comforting even when she seemed most 
to need comfort. 

In a moment Katie had mastered her emotion. 
However she might suffer from it when alone, 
it was rarely shown before others, especially where 
she knew it would be sj^mpathized with at their ex- 
pense. 

Ethel dear, forgive me ! When you have heard 
all, you will not think me unkind to give way so 
much before you. But now tell me about your- 
self. It is only a week since I saw you, and you 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


313 

were not worse than usual, and now you seem so 
ill ! 

I have never been well, Katie, since Christmas. 
I think I took cold at the midnight service, and I 
have been spitting blood ever since. I did not like 
to tell you, lest you should mention it to papa, and 
he has enough to suffer without anxiety about me. 
But now, Katie darling, I am dying ! I know it, 
Katie, and I do not wish to live. But, oh, my 
God ! to die this way— in this uncertainty, in this 
doubt ! ” 

The exertion and the violent agitation was too 
much for her. She coughed faintly, and Katie was 
horrified to see her handkerchief spotted with 
blood. She was rising to call the faithful Martha, 
who now scarcely left her young mistress, but 
Ethel motioned to her so earnestly to remain quiet, 
that she feared to agitate her more by disobeying 
her injunction. 

In a few moments she saw her lips were moving, 
and approaching closer, she could distinguish her 
words : 

Katie, stay with me to-day, all day, if you can.” 

Darling Ethel, you know I would long to do 
so. But what can I do with Gertrude ? And she 
is a stranger to you. I could not bring her here, 
and I could not leave her at home with mamma.” 

14 


314 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


'' Oh, let her come, Katie ! Write, and Jane will 
send the note, and you can go home together in 
the evening. I am sure your mamma would not 
mind, if she knew how ill I am.'' 

Catherine was perplexed how to act, but after a 
few moments' consideration, she thought of an ar- 
rangement that would suit all. 

‘‘ Ethel, you are not able to speak now, and you 
ought to be alone, or quiet at least, until you are bet- 
ter. I will go home — you know it is but a few minutes' 
walk — and come back after luncheon, when I can 
remain with you until late. Mamma will be satis- 
fied if she sees me then, and I can explain all to 
Gertrude." 

Ethel's sweet smile told that she was pleased, 
and, whispering, ‘‘ Call Martha, dear, and then go," 
she lay back calmly, and apparently more peace- 
ful. 

In a few moments Katie was at home. It wanted 
nearly an hour of the usual time for lunch, so she 
and Gertrude agreed to walk in the park until 
then. When they returned, the servant said that 
Lady Rossmore had ordered the carriage earlier 
than usual, and had driven out. 

Catherine was greatly relieved, and Gertrude 
equally so, for she wished to remain at home when 
Katie returned to Ethel, but had feared that Lady 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 315 

Rossmore would insist on taking her out if she 
knew the arrangement. 

“ Pray, do not think of me, Katie!” she said, as 
the former prepared to return to the invalid. “ I 
shall be quite happy with a book, and only anxious 
for your return, to hear how poor Miss Langdale 
is!” 


CHAPTER XXI. 

“ Salvation is not the by-play of our idle hours. It demands a 
manly and resolute heart, or that still strength which faith gives to 
the most feminine and gentle spirit.” 

— Sermons by Archbishop Manning. 1842. 

OW very kind of you, and of Miss Hel- 
more, too ! ” exclaimed Ethel. I will 
not keep you long, for I must not be 
selfish. But, oh, Katie ! if you knew how I have 
longed and prayed for your return, how I have 
dreaded lest I should die without seeing you 
again ! 

‘‘ God has been very good to us both ! replied 
Catherine, softly. And I, too, have longed to see 
you, dear Ethel ! I wanted your advice, your help. 



3i6 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


about a most serious matter ! Ethel, I must see 
Dr. Humbletone. Will he soon be here?” 

Why did Ethel shudder so strangely ? and why 
did that deadly pallor steal over her hitherto 
flushed countenance ? 

Ethel, what is the matter ; you are ill again ? 
I am talking too much. You cannot bear this ex- 
citement.” 

It will not harm me, Katie. My days are num- 
bered, and, oh God ! my hours are numbered, too ! 
How will I see Thee ! how will I bear to gaze on 
Thee ! Must I, oh must I, die, in this fearful un- 
certainty ? ” 

Katie thought her mind was wandering, and 
knelt beside her to pray. But Ethel spoke again : 
‘VKatie, I know what you think, but you are mis- 
taken ! I must speak ; it can but shorten my life a 
few hours ; perhaps it will make the future less 
miserable if I do. Katie, we are not right ! our 
church is not the true Church ! Oh, Katie, when we 
come near death and judgment, ever3^thing looks 
so real, so fearfully real! We have been playing 
with Catholic practices, and persuading ourselves 
we held Catholic truth ! Oh, Katie, it may satisfy 
us in life, but it will not satisfy us in death ! But 
they will not hear me, the^^ will not believe me, 
Katie, and this is why I fear to die ! ” 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


317 

If a thunderbolt had fallen from heaven into the 
sick-room, Catherine Rossmore could not have 
been more terrified. Her eyes were extended, her 
lips apart, in a very panic of fear. She could not 
think that Ethel's mind was wandering, her words 
were so collected ; and the energy with which she 
spoke was very unlike the excitable ravings of 
delirium. 

‘‘ But your father, — Dr. Humbletone — exclaim- 
ed Katie, as soon as she had power to speak ; can 
they not satisfy you ? Oh, Ethel, this is dreadful, 
and it must be very, very wrong ! " 

They tell me to obey them, to trust my soul to 
their keeping ; that they will answer for me, if I 
am wrong! But, Katie, they are not dying, and 
I am ! They have taught me to love the name of 
Catholic, to believe in one Holy Catholic Church, 
unbroken and undivided ; to believe that the 
Church is the living representative of Christ upon 
earth ! And I have tried, oh, how earnestly ! for 
years and years, to believe that the Church of Eng- 
land is that one Holy Apostolic Body. I have 
tried to think it in life, Katie, and hoped and be- 
lieved it would one day complete its reformation, 
and be all that its most loving children could ask ; 
but I cannot think it in death. I must have cer- 
tainty now 1 They cannot deny that our orders 


3 1 8 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

and our faith are derived from the Romish com- 
munion, and surely, if it be so, and if there be even 
a chance that we are wrong, it is safest to die in 
that Church which we are sure is right ! '' 

But, Ethel darling, your papa and Dr. Humble- 
tone did not say they were sure the Church of 
Rome was right, and surely they must be better 
qualified to decide so momentous a question than 
we are ? 

The}^ dare not say it, Katie ; but ask your own 
reason this plain question. You and I believe that 
there is a church, and that it cannot err ; if it 
could there would be no church, and a dissenter 
would be as likely to be right as ourselves. Now 
if there was, and is a church that cannot err, why 
was it reformed at the Reformation? Were they 
safe guides who reformed an infallible church, and 
are we sure in dying out of that church ? Oh, Katie, 
my father knows it, and Dr. Humbletone knows it, 
but they dare not own it even to themselves ; but 
they have time, perhaps a long, long life before 
them, and I have not many days, perhaps not many 
hours.” 

Ethel, I will speak to your papa ; this is dread- 
ful! I am sure you are wrong, though I do not 
know how to answer you.” 

It is no use, Katie ; papa is not at home now. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


319 

and even if he were, it would be useless to speak 
to him. He knows it all long since.'' 

‘‘ But Dr. Humbletone. Would it not be a comfort 
to you to see him ? Surely if he knew you were so 
ill he would come at once." 

He will be here in a few days, perhaps sooner," 
she replied, sadly. And then, Katie, you and Ger- 
trude can see him here if you wish ; but I know 
too well all he will say to me. Oh, Katie, if he 
knows he is wrong, too, he will have a terrible ac- 
count to give at the hour of death !" 

It was late in the afternoon now, and Katie re- 
luctantly prepared to return home. More than 
once she thought of remaining all night with Ethel, 
but she could not leave Gertrude alone, and the in- 
valid would not hear of it. 

You can come again to-morrow," she said, and 
bring Miss Helmore with you. I would so much 
like to see her." 

At an early hour on the following morning the 
two friends were at Mr. Langdale's. The servant 
said, in answer to their enquiries, that Miss Ethel 
seemed better, but Katie soon saw that it was but 
a deceitful and probably only a very transient 
change. 

‘‘ I am so glad to see you both," she said, extend- 
ing her hand affectionately to Gertrude, who was 


320 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


won at once by her appearance. And I have 
good news for you. Dr. Humbletone will be here 
to-morrow, and will remain until Monday at all 
events. Papa heard from him last night, and he 
said I might give you these,’' she continued, taking 
two little books from under her pillow. But you 
will remember they are on no account to be shown 
to any who would misunderstand them.” 

Katie opened them eagerl}^ and read their title- 
pages. ‘‘ Instructions for a First Confession, privately 
printed;” ‘^Devotions before and after Holy Com- 
munion, privately printed.” 

“We will be careful indeed, Ethel. What would 
my mother say if she were to see them ? I suppose 
they are written by Dr. Humbletone?” 

“ I believe they are,” replied the invalid. “ But 
you see there is not even a printer’s name on the 
title-page, or in any part of the book, and they 
can not be got except from himself; so you see 
the greatest secrecy is observed in their distribu- 
tion.” 

“ It is necessary, I am sure,” observed Gertrude, 
“but Miss Langdale, how are you. I have been so 
anxious about you since yesterday !” 

“ My name is Ethel,” replied the young girl, in a 
tone of such gentle sweetness, that the tears came 
unbidden into Gertrude’s eyes. “We must be 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


321 

friends, and now I will begin to break the ice, and 
call you Gertrude at once/' 

How much you must suffer, and how patient 
you are !" exclaimed Miss Helmore, involuntarily. 

“ Martha could tell you a different tale, I sus- 
pect/' replied Ethel, smiling. But I am better, 
and, like all invalids under such circumstances, of 
course, improved in temper." 

I often wished to ask you about your aunt," 
said Katie. Does she never come to see you ? I 
think you must be very lonely with so few friends, 
without any one to take care of you constantly ex- 
cept Martha." 

‘‘ Aunt Mary thinks it best not to come," replied 
Ethel, sadly, but I would like to see her very, very 
much. I spoke to papa about it only yesterday, but 
he says Dr. Humbletone does not wish it, and Aunt 
Mary is so obedient she will not do the least thing 
contrary to their wish. They say if she came to 
see me the other sisters would expect to visit their 
relations also, and I suppose that would not be al- 
lowed." 

‘‘ But surely nuns visit the sick, Ethel, and if they 
go out at all, I do not see why their sick relations 
should not benefit by their care." 

I believe they do," replied Ethel, and Miss 
Dobbs, Dr. Humbletone's great favorite, is con- 
14* 


322 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

stantly on a visit at her father’s, though he is not at 
all in ill health. But papa says we must be cautious 
in the present state of the church, and I suppose he 
is right.” 

Gertrude did not speak ; she felt too ignorant of 
what nuns did, and did not do, to venture an opin- 
ion. 

I will only see you for a few minutes to-mor- 
row,” said Katie, as they were leaving. “ This 
dreadful dinner party will come off then, and in the 
evening I suppose Gertrude and I must take some 
quiet time to prepare for our interview with Dr. 
Hurnbletone, which you say he is likely to appoint 
on Saturday.” 




CHAPTER XXII. 

“ How I grieve you’re not with us ! — pray come, if you can, 

Ere we’re robbed of this dear oratorical man, 

Who combines in himself all the multiple glory 
Of Orangeman, Saint, Quondam Papist and Tory.” 

— Moore. 

RS. HELLIER'S house was large and hand- 
somely furnished ; moreover she had a mar- 
riageable daughter, and very clear and dis- 
tinct ideas of political economy. Consequently every 
thing was done that could be done to make her din- 
ner party pass off well. Of course Sir Timothy 
must sit beside herself. She would have preferred 
placing him near Miss Hellier, but it could not be. 
Dr. Thundertone would have liked a similar prox- 
imity to Lady Rossmore, but again the cruel 
usages of society interfered and consigned her to 
Captain Hellier. However, as the party was not 
very large, the conversation soon became general. 

Miss Stapleton’s affair” had become public, and 
was duly discussed. Some of the party pronounced 

( 3 ^ 3 ) 



324 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


her romantic, some decided that she was a little 
deranged. All, except Katie and Gertrude Hel- 
more, agreed that her perversion was a warning, 
and ought to be held up as a caution to all Roman- 
izing young ladies. The progress of Popery was 
^really fearful and most alarming, and immediate 
steps should be taken for putting down all such insti- 
tutions. Various plans were projected and agreed 
upon for the special object of rendering Mr. Lang- 
dale's parish too hot for him,'’ and other equally 
enlivening and agreeable arrangements were dis- 
cussed until the dessert was placed on the table. 

Katie thought that her abstinence had passed un- 
observed. When the fish was removed she had re- 
tained her plate, and contrived to look as if she was 
doing something with the vegetables as soon as they 
were handed round. But she was mistaken. The 
great Doctor’s eyes had been fixed attentively on 
her all the time, and he had projected a plan which 
he considered would tend to her enlightenment, 
and bring himself more prominently into notice, an 
object never to be forgotten. 

Pleasure of wine. Miss Rossmore,” he said, 
bowing most graciously across the table. “ Charm 
ing weather this/' he continued ; but I fear you 
are a sad stay-at-home ; we never see you at any 
of our meetings.” 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


325 


All eyes were immediately turned on Katie, 
which was precisely what Dr. Thundertone antici- 
pated. 

‘‘ I prefer a walk in the park, Dr. Thundertone,” 
replied Catherine, a little haughtily ; the weather 
is becoming too warm to remain long in a close 
atmosphere.” 

Dr. Thundertone knew very well Miss Rossmore 
had other reasons for preferring the park, and he 
was determined every one else should know it 
also. 

‘‘ Ah ! but when we consider the good to be 
done, we must sacrifice ourselves a little,” he re- 
plied, at the same time consoling himself for his 
share in the sacrifice by another glass of old port. 

It is fatiguing, certainly, particularly for the 
speakers (Pleasure of wine. Sir Timothy); but you 
know, Miss Rossmore, the harvest truly is great, 
but the laborers are few. W e shall have another 
meeting to-morrow, for the unfortunate Irish ; by 
the way, as I suppose you will not be there, I may 
as well show you a curious specimen of their super- 
stition, that I have been fortunate enough to get 
into my possession. It is simply a wafer of flour 
and water, but they worship it as God.” 

Blasphemous ! Horrible !” exclaimed the party 
in chorus. 


326 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


Pray, Dr. Thundertone, let us see it,’' exclaimed 
Miss Sloane. 

Katie rose from the table ; her countenance was 
ghastly pale ; so pale, that Lady Rossmore for a 
moment thought she would have fainted. Every 
eye was fixed on her, but she did not hesitate an. 
instant : Dr. Thundertone, if you produce this 

wafer, I shall leave the room !” 

If an electric shock had been administered to 
the assembled guests, the effect could scarcely have 
been more startling. Every one shrank back in 
horror from the young lady, so evidently contam- 
inated by Popery. Lady Rossmore looked as if she 
sincerely wished herself and her daughter safe in 
their own house. Miss Sloane clung convulsively 
to Mr. Sampson Small, a young gentleman of con- 
siderable rotundity, and diminutive stature, of 
whom more hereafter. Captain Hellier appeared 
inclined to laugh heartily, and treat the whole 
affair as a joke, until awe-struck by a look from his 
better half ; while Dr, Thundertone, unequally di- 
vided between a fear of annoying Lady Rossmore, 
by exposing her daughter in public, and anxiety to 
display his own eloquence in confuting and con- 
vincing the unfortunate young lady, was more 
than unusually embarrassed how to proceed. 

Really, Miss Rossmore,” he exclaimed, at 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


327 


length, “ I had no idea you would feel so much 
about this little affair, or I would not have men- 
tioned it ; pray, be seated. Mrs. Hellier, I am 
sure, will excuse me from exhibiting it now, as 
every one here will, I have no doubt, be present at 
the meeting, when it will be shown publicly ; and 
perhaps Lady Rossmore will persuade you to 
come, after all. There will be the most interesting 
details about those unfortunate priest-ridden peo- 
ple.^^ 

Catherine was silent. She felt it best not to 
speak, unless actually obliged to do so, as she was 
well aware how useless it would be. Poor Ger- 
trude's face was crimson with fear and anxiety ; 
she was placed beside Mr. Hellier, junior, and 
longing for the termination of the most tiresome 
hour she had ever spent, when Dr. Thundertone's 
determination to expose Popery had produced such 
a sensation. As a comparative stranger to the 
whole party, her position was even more painful 
than Katie's ; but she had determined to do what- 
ever her friend did, and had risen from the table 
with her. There was one person in the room, also, 
who in some degree sympathized with their feelings, 
and that person was the daughter of their hostess. 
Eleanor Hellier was younger than either Katie or 
Gertrude ; but she was a girl of more than usual 


328 


MORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


intellect. Her plain appearance, and somewhat 
uncultivated manner, were a source of perpetual 
annoyance to her mother ; but her father was too 
much attached to his only daughter to see her de- 
ficiencies. No pains had been spared with her 
education, and in this, at least, her parents had not 
been disappointed. The high encomiums passed 
on her artistic skill .had blinded Mrs. Hellier to 
the fact that that skill was usually employed on 
sacred subjects, and subjects which that very evan- 
gelical lady would have loudly condemned, had 
they been selected by any one but her own child. 
Her voice, too, was magnificent ; and if she loved 
the ‘‘ Cujus Animam,'' or the Stabat Mater,” it 
was supposed to be a mere matter of taste, but by 
no means of devotion to that Immaculate Lady, 
whose existence was only remembered by Mrs. 
Hellier to defame her spotless purity, or to deny 
her exalted sanctity. Still Eleanor was High 
Church rather by instinct than from any clear, 
definite idea of sacramental grace. She accom- 
panied her mother to the Hertford Street chapel, 
and never even dreamed of going anywhere else, 
simply from the sheer impossibility of attempting 
an independent line of action. From a child she 
had attended, as a matter of course, the various 
religious meetings patronized by her family, and 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


329 


enjoyed the accompanying gossip, dress and flirta- 
tions as any other young lady would have enjoyed 
a public promenade or soiree ; but latterly, uncon- 
sciously to herself, her feelings had changed. She 
found herself criticising and doubting Mr. Frisk’s 
statements, and she was often distressed and shock- 
ed at the speeches to which she was obliged to 
listen at public meetings. When the previous day 
had been spent picturing an angel-guardian, with 
outstretched wings, protecting a little one, or with 
gentle hand guiding it along a rugged way, it was 
hard to hear the existence of these heaven-sent 
messengers almost questioned, and a belief in their 
protecting care condemned as Popish and idola- 
trous. When her whole soul had been absorbed 
in contemplating or creating a form whose loveli- 
ness and purity should surpass that of the very 
angels, since she was destined to be, not the mother 
of angels, but the mother of God, it was more 
than she could bear, to listen to those who in their 
blasphemy imagined they could exalt the Son at 
the expense of her from whom He had chosen to 
receive His human life, from whose very blood 
His spotless humanity had been formed. Her 
heart told her it was wrong, but her head had no 
arguments to support the instincts of her refined 
and cultivated mind ; and so she was fain to 


330 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


bear in silence what she could not remedy by 
words. 

The ladies did not remain long in the dining- 
room ; and Catherine was more than thankful when 
she found herself comparatively free. They were 
scarcely seated in the drawing-room, when Miss 
Hellier approached her, and after a few general 
remarks, said kindly, I am so sorry. Miss Ross- 
more, you should have met with so much annoy- 
ance at dinner ; but pray, try to forget it ; it is not 
worth remembering.'' 

It would not be, indeed," replied Katie, “as far 
as the embarrassment I have suffered myself is con- 
cerned ; but. Miss Hellier, it has given me a shock 
I can never recover. Is it possible that such exhi- 
bitions can occur at public meetings, and that the 
clergymen of our church, who have derived their 
orders and their power of consecrating the Holy 
Sacrament from the Church of Rome, can so de- 
grade themselves as to ridicule what they should 
hold most sacred ? What would they say of a Turk 
or heathen who exhibited the bread we use at com- 
munion to public mockery? And yet, what they 
do is far worse, even if they believe communion no 
more than a sacred ceremony ! " 

“ It is but too true," replied Miss Hellier, sadly ; 
“and, what is worse, I am obliged frequently to 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 33 1 

hear what cuts me to the heart, and to appear to 
sanction what I most abhor! To-morrow, as Dr. 
Thundertone has told you, he will exhibit this 
wafer to the people, and declare, amid the groans 
and execrations of the assemblage, that it is wor- 
shiped as God by the Roman Catholics, or Pap- 
ists ! 

It is, indeed, a great trial for you ! replied 
Katie, kindly. Your position seems even worse 
than mine. But could you not find any excuse for 
remaining away from these meetings ? '' 

‘‘Impossible! Mamma would take no excuse! 
If I betrayed my real feelings, I should only subject 
myself to worse. But I can and will hide my eyes 
when it is shown, and so far, at least, escape from 
being a participator in the outrage ! '' 

Further conversation was for the time prevented 
by the entrance of the gentlemen. Dr. Thunder- 
tone immediately placed himself beside Lady Ross- 
more, for the remainder of the evening. Their 
tete-h-tete continued in a low and confidential tone, 
and was, evidently, very interesting to themselves. 
Mrs. Hellier made several attempts to make the 
conversation more general ; but Dr. Thundertone, 
for one, appeared inclined to remain modestly in 
the shade, and she was obliged to resign herself to 
circumstances. An unpleasant pause soon followed. 


332 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


but was relieved by Captain Hellier, who requested 
Miss Sloane kindly to favor them with a song. 
After^receiving the amount of flattery and pressing 
usually required on such occasions, she consented, 
and immediately commenced, ‘‘Love not,’' in a 
most pathetic tone, which evidently implied that 
she hoped no one would for a moment suppose that 
she meant what she said. 

Mr. Sampson Small was seated beside Miss 
Sloane, junior, the object of his undivided affections, 
in spite of a disparity in age of some ten or fifteen 
years. But Mr. Small had golden reasons for over- 
looking this disparity, and when he was appointed 
for a mission to the “ Hottentot Indians,” he could 
not resist Miss Julia’s ardently-expressed desire to 
aid, “ in any way in her power, in the charming 
work. Those dear Indians ! it would be so delight- 
ful to enlighten their dark minds, and to watch, 
from a distance, the dawning of gospel truth ; for 
she trusted dear Mr. Small would not risk his 
valuable life by penetrating . too far into the in- 
terior ! ” 

Mr. Small assured her that he would not go fur- 
ther than she wished. There was a German settle- 
ment close to where his field of labor had been 
appointed, and the most charming house had been 
erected there for the missionary. It only needed 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


333 


one thing to make it a little Paradise, and that one 

thing was . Miss Sloane tried to blush ; did not 

know how she could leave her dear sister, who, by 
the way, was only too thankful to get rid of her ; 
feared her own unworthiness,'’ but finally con- 
cluded that, with dear Mr. Small’s assistance and 
valuable instructions, she might be, in time, fitted 
for her work ; and when the very idea of it was so 
charming, what would the reality be ! 

The interval between courtship and matrimony 
(which was to take place on the ver}^ eve of their 
departure, for the excellent reason that Mr. Small 
had a previous engagement,” which made it de- 
sirable and, indeed, absolutely necessary, that his 
present one should not be known until he had 
placed the ocean between himself and his once dear, 
but always poor, Jemima) was spent in making ar- 
rangements for the comfort of the devoted couple, 
and rendering their banishment as tolerable as cir- 
cumstances would permit. Indeed, Mr. Small felt 
that, little as his stature was,^he was not a man to 
be looked down on, as he proceeded from one 
house of business to another, ordering, and paying 
for, the somewhat expensive commodities named 
by his intended as absolutely necessary for their 
new location; but as Miss Julia supplied the funds, 
he bore the trial with remarkable resignation. 


334 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


The lovers were so absorbed with each other 
that they did not perceive the movement which 
announced that Dr. Thundertone was about to ex- 
pound, until Miss Florence, rather unceremoniously, 
requested her sister not to make herself the talk of 
the room. 

This expoundation was another trial for Katie 
and Gertrude. But they could scarcely help laugh- 
ing, when young Hellier quietly took a volume of 
Tennyson from the table, and placed it before him 
on his chair, when all had knelt down for prayers, 
announcing at the same time to his sister that he 
must do something, for the credit of the family, to 
keep himself awake ; for he knew Thundertone 
would keep it up for half-an-hour, after the alarm- 
ing symptoms of Popery he had seen in Lady Ross- 
more’s family. The intensely serious face with 
which he perused the volume amused Katie ex- 
tremely, but when, at the conclusion, he approached 
Dr. Thundertone, and declared ‘‘ he did not know 
when he had been so touched,” she could scarcely 
restrain herself from a hearty laugh. It did not 
escape her observation that Miss Hellier had evi- 
dently not “ followed ” the prayer either, but on 
inquiry from Gertrude, who was beside her, she 
ascertained that that young lady had commenced at 

Dearly beloved brethren,” and arrived at Light- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


335 


en our darkness/' before the doctor had concluded ; 
an example which Gertrude appreciated, for, as she 
felt it a mockery to remain on her knees while she 
was not praying, and as she had not been trained 
to the modern custom of letting another person 
pray for her, and listening to what he said, she 
could not follow the doctor, even had his ideas of 
devotion corresponded better with her own. 

Carriages were announced, and the party dis- 
persed soon after, not, however, without an effort 
on Dr. Thundertone's part to see Catherine alone, 
which she so indignantly and decidedly rejected 
that the reverend gentleman retired somewhat 
crest-fallen, but fully determined to compensate 
himself next day for his humiliation by additional 
invectives against Popery. 




CHAPTER XXIII. 


That therefore in these both curious and unhappy differences, 
which have for so many hundred years,” (Query, how many?) “in 
different times and places, exercised the church of Christ,” (So 
the differences have been in the church, not out of it, an “ unhappy” 
thing certainly.) “ we will, that all further curious search be laid 
aside, and these disputes shut up in God’s promises, as they be 
generally set forth to us in Holy Scriptures, and the general mean- 
ing of the articles of the church of England according to them.” — 
His Majesty’s Declaration Prefixed to the xxxix Articles. 


EALLY, my dear Catherine, your con- 
duct is quite incomprehensible, and if 
your intercourse with Mr. Langdale is 
to be productive of such annoyance to your friends, 
I must positively desire that it shall be altogether 
discontinued. If an intimation of my wishes is not 
sufficient for you, I will depute a friend to call on 
that gentleman, as I presume from the very Jesuiti- 
cal reply which he wrote to my letter, that a per- 
sonal interview would be less liable to misconcep- 
tion on both sides.’' 

There was an emphasis on the word ^‘friend” not 

(336) 




HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


337 

to be mistaken. Poor Catherine ! If Doctor Thun- 
dertone was to be her mother’s friend, and perhaps 
more, her future prospects were not very agree- 
able. 

‘‘ Am I to understand, mamma, that you forbid 
my having any intercourse with m}^ parish clergy- 
man? I will see Mr. Langdale this morning, and 
should like to know how I am circumstanced?'’ 

“ Of course, my dear, it would suit you exactly 
to represent your mother as a domestic tyrant, who 
will not allow you the slightest liberty, and your- 
self as an unfortunate persecuted child. Very ro- 
mantic indeed, but permit me to say, very untrue. 
If your poor dear father were alive, he would not 
allow me to be treated in this manner by my own 
daughter.” 

Lady Rossmore took out her handkerchief and 
applied it to her eyes, as in duty bound, when 
touched by such tender recollections. 

Gertrude had risen from the breakfast-table and 
left the room, as she dreaded being present at these 
domestic storms which contrasted so painfully with 
the unvarying harmony of her own domestic circle. 

“Mamma, this is more than I can bear. You 
drove my father from his home by your neglect 
and indifference. Now when you are about to be- 
stow your affections, if you have any, on a person 
IS 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


338 

whom I despise too strongly even to name in the 
same breath with him, you are trying to persuade 
yourself and me that you are the sufferer; but, 
mamma, no one will believe 3 ^ou, except, perhaps, 
those that find it to their interest to do so.’’ 

Thank you. Miss Rossrnore. I shall understand 
how to appreciate your religion for the future. 
First you make yourself an object of singularity at 
a dinner part}" by your Popish idolatry, and then 
you insult your mother. Thank you, my dear. 1 
see my way plainer now. It is evident I require 
a protector even in my own house, and, please God, 
I will not be long without one.” 

An hour later Katie and Gertrude Helmore were 
in Ethel’s room ; while Dr. Thundertone was con- 
soling Lady Rossrnore for her affliction, having 
considered an early visit necessary, after the events 
of the preceding evening. 

Dr. Humbletone will see you in papa’s study, 
Katie, darling; he thinks it best you should go to 
him first and Gertrude after. Do you think she 
would like to stay with me, or would she prefer 
being alone ?” 

'' I will ask her, Ethel. But how are you to-day ? 
I really think you look better; perhaps Dr. Hum- 
bletone’s visit will rouse you, and we shall see you 
yourself again.” 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


339 


A knock at the door, summoning Miss Rossmore 
to go at once to the great doctor, interrupted the 
conversation. She was obliged to leave Gertrude 
to her fate, and with trembling limbs and beating 
heart tried to nerve herself for the interview, as much 
dreaded as desired. It was a relief to her to find 
Mr. Langdale with Dr. Humbletone, as she was 
thereby saved the ' awkwardness of introducing 
herself ; but in a few moments she was left alone. 
He was accustomed to such scenes, and at once 
placed her as much at her ease as was possible un- 
der the circumstances, by enquiring about her 
mother, her friend Miss Helmore, with whom he 
had already made acquaintance he said, through 
his nephew, and such other general matters as could 
be spoken of without much personal excitement. 

‘‘And now, my child, what about yourself? I 
think I gathered from Ethel that you would like to 
make use of confession.'’ 

Katie felt her face crimson past all control, and 
as the best and easiest answer placed herself at 
once on her knees. 

Dr. Humbletone rose, and after putting on the 
surplice before mentioned, bolted the door and 
seated himself in the corner, leaving at least the 
space of half the room between himself and his un- 
fortunate penitent. 


340 


HORNE-HURSr RECTORY. 


Catherine’s feeling during this performance was 
simply absolute terror ; first she thought the devil 
had in some manner obtained entrance into the 
apartment, and that it was his satanic majesty and 
not Dr. Humbletone to whom she spoke; next it 
occurred to her that she was committing a fearful 
sin, for all her old Protestant ideas of Popery 
rose up before her with overwhelming force, and 
so realized themselves as almost to persuade her to 
fly from the house. 

These ideas passed through her mind in less time 
than we have taken to tell them, but they were 
partly dispelled for the time being by Dr. Humble- 
tone's voice, who was repeating some collects out 
of the Book of Common Prayer, that for Ash Wed- 
nesday being apparently uttered with special unc- 
tion and emphasis. 

‘‘ Perhaps, my child, you would like me to repeat 
the Confiteor for you ? ” inquired Dr. Humbletone, 
as he rose. It was unique, of its kind, and probably 
of the doctor’s own special invention ; not like his 
works, which he sometimes acknowledged were 
not his own by right of authorship, although when 
he could do so undetected, he tried to appropriate 
them, but his son’s, by adoption and regeneration, 
in the laver of his infallibility. There was no Popery 
in his Confiteor, nor was it even in the mildest de- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


34 f 

gree Catholic ; so, we do not fear to shock our 
readers by giving it entire : 

I confess to God, the Father Almighty ; to 
Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord ; to God the 
Holy Ghost, and to you, father, that I have sinned 
exceedingly, in thought, word, and deed/' 

Catherine repeated the words after the doctor, 
and then proceeded, with his assistance, to make 
such a confession as any ordinary Protestant young 
lady might be supposed to make, under similar cir- 
cumstances. She was sincere, at least, poor girl, in 
her earnest desire to tell all the evil she knew of 
herself ; but what real idea has any one of sin who 
is not a member of that one true Church whose 
teaching alone can enlighten the conscience, and 
save the soul ? 

It was the blind leading the blind ! Dr. Humble- 
tone knew as little as herself. How could he in- 
struct, who needed himself to he instructed ? It is 
true, the self-appointed confessor talked a great 
deal of humility, but what knew he of it save the 
name ? The hidden sins of the heart were as yet 
an unexplored world to both. Pride was his beset- 
ting, ruling sin, the sin that closed up the windows 
of his soul, so that the light of truth could find no 
entrance. He could talk and he could preach about 
‘‘being converted and becoming as little children 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


342 

but the conversion” meant a conversion to his own 
opinions, and the becoming as little children,” to 
submit, without questioning, to his dictates on the 
most awful and momentous questions. 

For two long hours Catherine knelt, and, in a 
simple, trusting faith, spoke of all that troubled her 
conscience, and at the end she received what Dr. 
Humbletone called Absolution, in these words, 
taken from the service for the visitation of the sick, 
in the Protestant prayer-book : 

Our Lord Jesus Christy Who hath left power to 
His Church to absolve all sinners who repent and be- 
lieve in Him, of His great mercy, forgive thee thine 
offences : And by His authority committed to me, I 
absolve thee from all thy sins. In the Name of the 
Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost , — > 
Amen.” 

Poor Katie ! There was a crushing, withering 
feeling at her heargshe could not account for. She 
felt dissatisfied with her confession, dissatisfied with 
Dr. Humbletone, dissatisfied with herself. She 
rose and left the room abruptly, and when she 
found herself alone, burst into a passion of tears. 
It was partly the reaction of an overwrought 
mind; partly a very special favor from God, Who 
would not allow her to receive satisfaction in 
imitation of a sacrament which could give no grace. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


343 


In a few moments she recovered herself sufficiently 
to seek for Gertrude, and send her to Dr. Humble- 
tone, only detaining her to utter the hurried in- 
junction: 

‘‘ Oh, Gertrude ! do not go to confession, what- 
ever you do ! ’’ 

An hour or two later, the two friends were walk- 
ing home slowly, having taken the park on their 
way, and lingered there a while, in order to wear 
off the traces of their morning's excitement in the 
fresh air. 

Well, Gertrude, and what of your future — is it 
settled ? " inquired Katie, anxiously, as soon as 
they were seated under a hawthorn-tree, which 
reminded poor Miss Helmore but too painfully of 
another tree and another walk. 

For a moment she did not reply. Catherine saw 
large tears fall on her mantle, and forebore to press 
her, though intensely anxious to^now the result of 
the interview. 

Catherine, my fate for life is sealed ! I will see 
Mr. Mordaunt no more, and in a few days I must 
leave you for Miss Dobbs' sisterhood ! " 

The announcement was so unexpected, and made 
in a tone of such hopeless grief, that for some time 
Catherine had no power to speak. At last she ex- 
claimed, indignantly : Gertrude, had I known this, 


344 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


never, never would I have brought you here ! Dr. 
Humbletone has no right to advise such a step. I 
am certain it is against your own inclination, against 
your own judgment. My God ! what will be done ? 
It will break your father’s heart, and they will say 
that I have done it ! Oh, Gertrude, Gertrude ! it 
must not, it shall not, be ! ” 

Miss Rossmore, beware how you interfere with 
the designs of Providence ! Must not, and shall 
not, are words which scarcely become a penitent 
soul. Remember our interview this morning, and 
what you promised me then ! ” 

It was Dr. Humbletone who spoke. He was 
walking in the park with Mr. Langdale, anxious, for 
reasons which will soon be apparent, to keep that 
gentleman as much as possible from his dying child ; 
but, seeing Miss Rossmore and her friend at a short 
distance from him, he approached them for the pur- 
pose of cautioning Gertrude not to mention his 
advice until he saw her next day, as he had prom- 
ised to do. He had heard Miss Rossmore’s words 
unintentionally, and as he concluded from them she 
had heard all, determined if possible to awe her 
into acquiescence, and for that purpose reminded 
her before her friend of what had transpired in con- 
fession, a matter which would have been held sacred 
by a barbarian, if we could suppose the}^ would 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


345 

copy Catholic practices in any part of their religious 
worship. 

Poor Catherine ! It was no wonder her head 
ached as she laid it on her pillow that night ; and 
yet, dissatisfied and tired as she was, it never oc- 
curred to her for a moment to blame any one but 
herself. She believed the words which Christ had 
spoken when He left to his successors the power 
to bind and to loose she doubted not for a mo- 
ment that that power was in her own church, 
though it was exercised but by few ; and she knew 
nothing of how confession is practised in the one 
true church, whose sacraments bring peace, be- 
cause they are administered by those who are the 
appointed channels of God’s mercies to their fellow- 
men. She did not even know that amongst the 
glorious martyrs and confessors of that very 
church, one* is commemorated on her altars because 
he preferred a cruel and ignominious death to di- 
vulging the secrets of a penitent. But Dr. Hum- 
bletone was so occupied in correcting the errors 
of saints, in proclaiming the wrong views ” of con- 
fessors, in questioning the soundness of the Fathers, 
and in proclaiming the infallibility of his own pri- 
vate judgment, widely as it differed from that even 
of what he called the church of his baptism, that 

* St. John Nepomucen. 

15* 


346 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


he had no time, or no inclination, for ascertaining 
how the sacraments were administered in the Cath- 
olic Church. Perhaps we do him injustice. His 
reading was said to be extensive, and his memory 
good. Possibly his private judgment might have 
differed from the wisdom of that church in matters 
of practice, as it did from the decision of that church 
in matters of faith ; and as he considered himself at 
liberty to hear confession in any part of Great Britain 
or Ireland, when he could find a penitent without 
any scruples about faculties or permissions, general 
or particular, from his ecclesiastical superiors, he 
may also have considered it advisable, under certain 
circumstances, to make any part of the confessions 
he heard public, or to allude to them in any way 
he pleased. We do not for a moment impugn the 
Doctor’s right of private judgment. As a Protest- 
ant, undoubtedly, he was perfectly justified in ex- 
ercising it to the utmost ; but, perhaps, as a gen- 
tleman, it would have been more in accordance 
with the ordinary rules of courtesy to have pre- 
served silence on such subjects. Possibly, had he 
been placed in the same position as St. Nepomucen, 
he would have found it ‘‘advisable for the age in 
which he lived,” “ expedient under his peculiar 
circumstances,” or even “ more sound,” to have 
satisfied the curiosity, or, rather, the vile passions, 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


347 

of the Emperor Wenceslaus, and to have spared 
himself the martyr's ignominious death. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


“ There is no tyranny so cruel as that which is exercised by 
those whose authority is self-constituted.” 


IT was with something more than a feel- 



ing of thankfulness that Katie heard, on 
Syi her return home, that her mother was 
gone out for the day and begged the young ladies 
would not wait dinner for her, as she might not be 
home until late. 

This is fortunate, Gertrude !" she exclaimed. 

God knows, but it may be the last evening we 
shall spend together on earth.” 

It was some moments before Gertrude replied ; 
and when she did so, her manner seemed so strange 
and abstracted, that Katie could not but feel deeply 
anxious for her. In truth, she had received a shock 
that morning which told itself on her whole future 
life. Naturally diffident of her own judgment, 
and strongly convinced that if there was a church 


348 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


at all, she was bound to obey all the dictates of its 
ministers, she had applied to Dr. Humbletone as a 
person whose sanctity and learning best fitted him 
to decide an intricate case of conscience. She had 
told him, without disguise, of her deep and ardent 
^ attachment for his nephew ; no unwomanly avowal, 
since it had been sanctioned by her nearest and 
dearest relatives, and was more than reciprocated 
by him whose attentions had produced it. She 
spoke of scruples such as only a refined, deliberate 
conscience like hers could have suggested ; how 
she feared to marry, lest she should hinder the one 
so dear from the perfect fulfillment of ministrations 
which she considered so awfull}^ sacred ; lest it 
should be more perfect, or even more advisable, 
for those who served at the altar to be free from 
all domestic care. She said, that though she her- 
self had no attractions for the high and holy state 
of virginity, yet she feared lest she might have 
proved a stumbling-block in the way of the young 
clergyman, and perhaps hindered him from em- 
bracing a state which he had taught her to consider 
so sublime and so exalted. The question on which 
all seemed to depend was, whether a clergyman of 
the English Church ought or ought not to marry, 
and this question she asked Dr. Humbletone, with 
a simplicity and earnestness which would have 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


349 


touched any one less possessed with the idea of 
their own absolute right to judge in all cases of 
faith or practice. 

His reply was so vague that she did not become 
aware until long after that she had received no 
reply at all. So many reasons were given for mat- 
rimony, and so many against it, with so many ob- 
servations about the peculiar circumstances of the 
times, and the necessity of waiting for the growth 
of Catholic views'’ before Catholic practices were 
introduced, that Gertrude was fairly perplexed, 
though in some degree imposed on, by the porten- 
tous display of learning in the shape of quotations 
from some of the Fathers, (which, by the way, Ger- 
trude had no means of verifying, or she might have 
ascertained that they referred to a very different 
subject ; whether a person could be admitted to 
orders who had been married), and above all by the 
very decided assumption of authority on the part 
of the Doctor. But though the reverend gentle- 
man was not inclined to give his opinion decidedly, (if 
he had any,) on the important question of the celi- 
bacy of the clergy, still he was quite prepared to 
decide by his infallible judgment how she should act 
in her present perplexity. Her doubts, he said, 
were a plain indication that matrimony was not her 
vocation, and he would advise her at least to try 


350 


BORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


how she could get on as a Sister of Mercy. He 
would write to his nephew himself, and save her 
the pain of telling his decision; indeed, he advised, 
and if she intended to consider him as her director, 
he required, that she should not see Mr. Mordaunt 
again ; an interview would be painful to both, and 
could be of no service to either. 

Gertrude’s tears fell fast as the Doctor spoke, 
but she had determined to carry out to the letter 
whatever advice he might give. Her resolution 
was not the result of a mere caprice or preference 
for one guide more than another ; it was a calm, 
prayerful determination to submit to what she be- 
lieved to be the will of God in her regard as soon 
as it was made known to her by one whom she 
considered authorized to speak in His name. Hers 
was a safe and holy resolve ; she was faithful to the 
faint glimmer of light that was dawning on her 
soul ; but a little while arid she shall stand in the 
full unclouded ray of the sunshine of eternal truth. 

Dr. Humbletone’s motives in giving the advice 
he did were not so pure as hers who listened so 
meekly to his dictum. Strange how the willful ways 
of men are overruled, unconsciously to themselves, 
to promote the designs of Providence. 

The guide and the guided each had their end. 
The one was working for self, for his own views, 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


351 


his own opinions presumptuously preferred to those 
of departed saints, and the living church ; the other 
in simplicity of heart only sought to do the will of 
God at any personal sacrifice, and had no opinion 
to maintain, no views to defend. Each had their 
reward. The guide plunged deeper and darker in 
the mazes of error and the labyrinth of falsehood ; 
while the humble and truthful soul was led forth in 
peace to the green pasture of eternal truth. 

And so, Gertrude, you are determined to go. 
I cannot believe it. 1 cannot understand how you 
can make up your mind to a step which must 
wound your very heart. Oh, Gertrude ! I never 
felt so miserable, and it seems so strange, now at 
the very moment when we should be full of 
peace.'' 

‘‘ Dr. Humbletone says we cannot expect to feel 
all at once the benefit of the Sacrament of Absolu- 
tion. And he says too, Katie, what has quite satis- 
fied me, that we cannot expect to feel happy in this 
world, and that I must be prepared to meet trials 
even when I go to Miss Dobbs' establishment.’’ 

'‘Well, Gertrude, it may be so, but I cannot 
understand this new theory. Of course, people 
must feel suffering, and be unhappy in a certain 
sense, when they have to bear great trials, but I 
cannot believe that it is not possible for a Christian 


352 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


to have peace ; and certainly the anxious, restless 
state of mind in which we both are at present, is 
far from it/’ 

Katie, we must have patience; take it on trust 
a little while. You at least are not called to 
any decided line of action ; your future is plain, 
but” — 

It is a message from Mr. Langdale’s, ma’am. 
Martha is waiting, and she says she must not give 
the message to any one but yourself.” 

In a moment Catherine was in the hall. 

For God’s sake come, ma’am !” exclaimed the 
poor girl, forgetting in her eagerness, that Miss 
Rossmore could not leave the house without a bon- 
net and cloak. Oh, ma’am, she’s dying, my poor 
young lady, and it’s that Doctor has killed her. I 
knew he would.” 

Katie saw at once that it was impossible to as- 
certain anything from Martha beyond the fact that 
her young lady was seriously ill, and that either 
she had expressed a wish to see her, or that Martha 
had came for her, thinking her presence would be 
of use in the sick-room. 

It was late and the lamps were already lighted, 
but she did not hesitate a moment. Hastily putting 
on such wrappings as were absolutely necessary, 
and telling Gertrude she Avould return as soon as 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


353 

possible, she set out at a rapid pace, in her anxiety 
almost outstripping poor Martha. 

In ten minutes she had reached Mr. Langdale’s 
house ; but on her way she gathered from the ser- 
vant that Miss Ethel was indeed in immediate dan- 
ger of death ; that an hour before she had been 
hastily summoned to the room and had found her 
in a deadly swoon, the evident result of a long in- 
terview with Dr. Humbletone. More than this, 
Martha did not know, but Katie formed her own 
conjectures, and they Avere of the most painful 
kind. Fear of an encounter with Dr. Humbletone 
and of giving offence to Mr. Langdale by coming 
unbidden at such a time, almost counteracted the 
intense love for Ethel which urged her at any risk 
to be near her in her dying hours. 

If Katie had known Avhat Avas passing in Mr. 
Langdale's study, she Avould never have entered 
the house. The unhappy father, chained by the 
iron will of another, was no longer master of him- 
self or of his child. Now he would start from his 
seat and pace the room with rapid strides; now he 
would throw himself on his knees before the small 
cross in his little oratory, and bury his face in 
his hands, until his Avhole frame was shaken with 
convulsive sobs. 

Dr. Humbletone had kept many a soul from rest 


354 


HORNEHURST RECTORY. 


and peace in the true Church, but he had never 
fought so hard a battle for the powers of darkness 
as he fought that night. 

^‘Oh, my God! Humbletone, if we should be 
wrong ; if my child should be damned because I, 
because her father, would not allow her to enter 
the one true fold when she asked it, when she 
prayed it in her dying hour! Humbletone, I can- 
not, I v/ill not, be overruled. Ethel shall see a 
priest; I will go for one myself!’' he exclaimed, 
and moved hurriedly toward the door. “ Oh, Ethel ! 
oh, my child, my child ! ” 

Langdale, this is not worthy of you ! ” exclaimed 
Dr, Humbletone, sternly. ‘‘In your calmer moments, 
you will thank me for what I am doing now. Ethel 
is not in such immediate danger. I have seen sev- 
eral such cases.” (Yes, Dr. Humbtetone, quite true ; 
and you will hear of them again, probably; but 
not under very pleasant circumstances.) “ Believe 
me, Langdale,” he continued, “ I can feel for you. 
I, too, am a father;” and, for a moment, his voice 
sounded gentle and full of tenderness ; “ but on the 
gospels I lay my hand, and declare before heaven 
and earth that I would rather see every child of 
mine dead at my feet than see one of them forsake 
the Church of their baptism ! My attachment to 
that Church is questioned again and again. I am 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


355 


called a Jesuit, and a traitor in the camp ; but, 
Langdale, you know what I am, and if living in the 
Church of England will not convince my fellow- 
men that 1 am what 1 profess to be, perhaps they 
will be satisfied when I die in it.’' 

There was a low knock at the door. Dr. Humble- 
tone answered it quickly. It was not an unusual 
thing to have the key turned in the lock, so the 
noise occasioned by opening it caused no sur- 
prise. 

The master’s sister is in the parlor, sir, and Miss 
Rossmore is just gone up to Miss Ethel.” 

Dr. Humbletone started. What could Ellen 
Langdale want, how could she have known of her 
niece’s danger, and would Miss Rossmore’s pres- 
ence do harm, or good ? He paused a moment ; his 
difficulties had increased ; but, with a generalship 
worthy of a better cause, he resolved to turn them, 
if possible, to his own account. He glanced at 
Mr. Langdale, but the unhappy father was again 
kneeling before the cross, and apparently had not 
heard the message, which was given in a low 
tone. 

Dr. Humbletone approached him, but was not 
prepared for the look of utter, hopeless misery that 
met his anxious gaze. For a moment he hesitated. 
His good angel spoke. What if he might be wrong. 


356 HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 

if it was even probable, or most distantly possible, 
that the English Church was not a part of the one 
true Catholic Church ? Oh, these ifs! The Church of 
Rome was a part of the true Church. He knew it ; he 
dared not deny it to himself, whatever he might have 
told to others. There had been moments, nay, hours 
and days, in which he had had his struggles and 
his doubts. They passed. He remembered all. 
But there was a demon near him as well as an 
angel. What ! would he yield, and to a girl, to a 
mere child — he, on whose ipse dixit thousands re- 
ceived their faith, on whose decisions thousands 
rested their salvation ; and if it was known that he 
had consented that Ethel should see a priest, even if 
he took no further steps himself — . It was but a mo- 
ment. The grace and the conflict passed. The angel 
hid her beautiful face in her silver wings. Hence- 
forth nothing remained for her but reparation for 
the soul she had so long striven to save by her 
prayers and her watchful care. Ah, how much 
more she would worship to atone for this sin ! The 
demon approached nearer to his victim, with a 
savage leer, and drew closer the last meshes of the 
web he had wSO long and skilfully woven. He was 
almost sure of his prey now. 

Langdale, I must leave you for a few moments — 
a person is waiting to speak to me — but before I 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


357 

go, I require, as your confessor, that you will not 
see Ethel again without my permission.” 

Dr. Humbletone’s voice was stern and cold, and 
well it might be. He was claiming a right of con- 
trol over the most sacred feelings, nay, even over 
the very conscience, of a fellow-creature, beyond all 
permissions, human or divine. 

Mr. Langdale did not look up again. His reply 
was scarcely audible. But the Doctor satisfied 
himself that he had gained his point before he left 
the room. 

To dismiss Miss Langdale with a stern reproof, 
was the work of a few moments. In darkness and 
loneliness, she left her brother’s house, and returned 
to her sisterhood ; in her humility, trying to per- 
suade herself that she had done wrong, in seeking 
even a last interview with her favorite niece, or de- 
siring to comfort her afflicted brother. She was 
little aware of the reasons why she was so quickly 
dismissed. Dr. Humbletone had trouble enough 
to crush the Catholic aspirings of his penitents, 
Avithout allowing them to come in contact with 
persons or circumstances which might tend, even 
in the least, to weaken their attachment to, or ex- 
cite doubts of the security of the Church established 
by the law of the land. Already, even in the sis- 
terhood under her care, he had permitted an imita- 


358 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 

tion of the sacrament . of Extreme-Unction to be 
administered by a Protestant bishop, to satisfy a 
mind which else would, perhaps, have sought in 
the true Church what was denied in its own com- 
munion.* 

When Miss Langdale was disposed of, his next 
care was to see Ethel. Two hours had elapsed 
since he had dragged her unhappy father from her 
presence, and vainly striven to quiet her fears by 
declaring that he would take on himself the respon- 
sibility of her salvation. Something new, truly, in 
the annals of moral theology, but not either the 
first or the last time that the Doctor had usurped 
the office of the Supreme Judge ; he had long ago 
claimed the power of legislator. 

A moment’s pause at the door convinced him 
that Miss Rossmore was in the room, and, as he 
listened, he heard her read the concluding words 
of the office of Compline, which he had adapted,” 
according to his own private judgment, for the use 
of members of the Church of England.” As she 
laid down the little book, he heard Ethel murmur, 
softly : ‘ A quiet night and a Christian end.’ Ah, 

Katie, it is all peace now ! ” For a moment he 
thought he had conquered. A moment more, and 
his lip quivered with indignation. Oh, if I could 


* A fact. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


359 


only see papa, darling papa, for one moment ; and 
aunt Ellen, how I would like to see her! Katie, I 
know they will come after me, and you, too ; you 
will all have time. But, oh, dearest one, do not, as 
you value your soul, as you value your eternal 
well-being, do not wait until your dying hour to 
act on your conviction ! And yet, Katie, I think, I 
believe God will judge me in mercy. Until I knew 
you I never had a doubt ; and now it was not until 
I found myself so near death that I dared to speak. 
You know all, Katie. Papa would have sent for a 
priest, a real priest ; but God knows how he has 
been tried, and God will pardon him, Katie, and 
He will have mercy on me. Yes, oh my God!’' 
she exclaimed, raising herself in the bed, I die in 
desire, in intention, in will, in the Holy Catholic 
Church, the Church Thou didst give Thy blood to 
save, the Church Thou didst found on the rock of 
Thy eternal Truth, which cannot err! ” 

It was the last flicker of the dying lamp. She 
sank back on the pillows so ghastly pale, so motion- 
less, that for a moment Katie thought her soul had 
passed away. She bent over her, to see if there 
was still life, and heard her murmur: Papa, papa, 
quick, quick!” In a moment Katie was in his 
study. He was kneeling where Dr. Humbletone 
had left him, so still that, but for his position, .he 


360 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


might himself have been mistaken for a corpse. 
She met Dr. Humbletone in the passage. To save 
unpleasant explanation, he had followed her, and 
was the first to speak : 

Langdale, will you come to Ethel ; Miss Ross- 
more fears she is 

Before he could finish the sentence, Mr. Lang- 
dale was with his dying child. 

Ethel, my darling, darling Ethel, oh forgive 
your poor father ! My own Ethel, I have killed 
you, I '' 

She drew him toward her gently. ‘‘ Papa, ni}^ 
beautiful papa — Ah ! the tears and the heavy 
sobs came fast now. My beautiful papa!” Were 
her baby da 3 ^s come back, in death, when she used 
to speak so to him. God help him 1 he could scarcely 
bear it. Papa, you must not, indeed you must 
not grieve. I am quite happy ; quite peaceful. 1 
die a Catholic in heart, and God will not ask more. 
But, oh darling papa ! you must come after me, 
and Katie, and aunt Ellen, too.” 

She paused, unable to say more. Her hand was 
locked closely in her father's. Dr. Humbletone 
stood watching them at a distance. There was a 
time when such a scene would have been almost 
more than he could bear, but of late his heart had 
grown strangely cold. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y . 36 1 

‘"Papa!” 

He leant down closer. 

Put my head on your shoulder.” 

It was done. Then there was a long, long look. 
Oh, almost a volume it was ! The father and the 
child concentrating a life of love in that dying 
gaze. 

Good-by, papa ; good-by, Katie ; I am going 
home ! ” 

Her head sank down more heavily on her father's 
shoulder. They thought she was at rest. 

A few moments passed. Her eyes opened slowly. 

Papa, promise me you will ” 

Poor child ! She could say no more, but her 
father knew well what she meant. His w^ords were 
calm and clear: “ Ethel, I promise ! ” 

Dr. Humbletone was at his side in a moment, but 
it was no time for him to exercise his powers of 
terror or personation. The great monar,ch Death 
was preaching, and when he speaks few mortals 
are bold enough to interrupt his words. 

Once more Ethel’s lips moved : 

Papa, you will be happy then. God is Truth, 
and truth is peace! Papa, you will die a Ca- 
tholic ? ” 

“ With God’s help, my child, I will die in the 
Holy Roman Catholic Church ! ” 

16 


362 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


A look of exceeding joy passed over the face of 
the dying girl. Then there was an expression of 
pain. It was nature's last struggle for life ; but it 
was brief, as is usually the case where death is pre- 
ceded by a life of constant suffering. 

For the last time the sound of her voice was 
heard on earth, but so faint was its utterance that 
none but her father's ear could distinguish it. 

Ethel died, uttering the indulgenced words, 
though she knew it not, which have been the last 
earthly murmur of so many saintly souls — “ My 
Jesus, mercy ! " 



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HOENEH-UEST 

RECTORY. 


BY 

SISTEE MAET FKAIS^CIS CLAEE, 

AUTHOR OP “illustrated HISTORY OP IRELAND,” “ LIPE OP ST. PATRICK,” 

ETC., ETC. 


In two volumes, 

VOL. II. 



NEW YORK: 

D. & J. SADLIER ^ COMPANY, 

31 BAKCLAY STREET. 

Montreal: — Corner of Notre Dame & St. Francis Xayier Sts. 

1872 . 


Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1872, by 
D. & J. SADLIER & CO., 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C. 








EDWARD O. JENKINS, 
PRINTER AND STEREOTTPER, 
NO. 20 N. WILLIAM ST., N. T. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


“ Truth is often stranger than fiction, and less easily believed.” 

OU will remain here, to-night, I hope, 
Dr. Humbletone ?’' inquired Mr. Lang- 
dale, when at Katie’s earnest solicita- 
tion they had left her alone with Martha to do all 
that could be done for the faded flower. 

Dr. Humbletone almost started ; there was a 
manly earnestness in the tone of Mr, Langdale’s 
voice that he had not heard for years. He would 
have attempted threats and expostulations, but 
something told him his labor would be lost. An- 
other member of the Anglican establishment had 
escaped his grasp unexpectedly, and very unpleas- 
antly. 

If you intend to apostatize, Langdale, I cannot 
remain under your roof. The judgments of God — ” 
‘'Humbletone, no more of this. I have yielded 
too long to your threatened judgments, and too 
long believed that in obeying your voice and sti- 

(365) 





366 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


fling the dictates of my conscience, I obeyed the 
voice of God, and resisted the temptations of the 
evil one. My determination is made, and I will 
act on it. This night’s experience has done the 
work of years.” 

Dr. Humbletone was silent for a moment, but in 
that moment all the probable consequences of his 
friend’s conversion flashed before him. Would 
Miss Langdale follow her brother’s example, and 
if she did, how many of her companions, for many 
had already gathered around her, might be tempt- 
ed to do likewise ? ' And Catherine Rossmore, she 
who had so unconsciously been the cause of Ethel’s 
doubts, would she see her religious views in a new 
light? For a moment his courage failed him. 

Langdale, we part to-night, and forever ; but 
by our friendship, our struggles, our hopes and 
fears, so long shared in common, so long rejoiced 
in, or mourned over together, at least listen once 
more to all that I can urge, ere you take this awful 
step. You are acting under the excitement of a 
time of exceeding trial ; perhaps you will regret 
for years the step so rashly taken.” 

’For an hour Mr. Langdale listened patiently to 
the Doctor’s arguments, wondering all the time 
that their utter worthlessness had never struck 
him before. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


367 


W ell, Humbletone,'’ he exclaimed, at length, 
‘‘ I have listened patiently to all you have said. 
How many times have I not used the same argu- 
ments myself to others ? But, after all, what do 
they amount lo ? We are to endeavor, in spite 
of Bishops, Arches Courts, Liturgies and Articles, 
to make our church as Catholic as we can ; sup- 
pose we succeed ; suppose for a moment that bap- 
tismal regeneration is acknowledged to be an 
article of faith ; that the Holy Sacrament is be- 
lieved all we think it ; that confession is openly 
established, and that nine or ten new orders of 
religious women are founded ; supposing all this 
accomplished, impossible as it is for any reasonable 
man to entertain such a supposition, what have we 
gained ? We would have effected a second Re- 
formation ; we would have reformed our church 
by rejecting the errors of those who rejected the 
faith of the church in the i6th century; we would, 
in fact, have become as like Roman Catholics, as 
we could in practice, but where would our author- 
ity be for this Reformation ? Did Christ give the 
keys of the kingdom of Heaven to Luther and 
Calvin ? If He did, by all means let us remain 
where we are. If He did not, our only safety is, 
not in copying the practices which we choose to 
think safe, or advisable, or orthodox in that church 


368 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

from which the Reformers endeavored to wrest 
those keys, but in humbly returning to it. Then, 
and not till then, can we exclaim ‘ The snare is 
broken, and we are delivered.* Oh, Humbletone ! 
Death is a great teacher. We may fancy ourselves 
Catholics, and talk about our pure Reformed 
Church ; we may persuade ourselves we are not 
Protestants because we do not like the name, and 
that we are not separated from the unity of the 
church, because we find ourselves in an establish- 
ment which has preserved and still reverences some 
portion of the holy Catholic Faith, and because we 
did not take a personal part in the great schism. 
But I am convinced, unless by our sins we have 
strangely blinded our souls, all this will seem what 
it is in the light of eternity.’* 

Excuse me, Langdale, but this is language I 
cannot listen to. The church of our baptism — ** 
Humbletone, one question before we part. If 
you had lived in the reign of Henry the Eighth, 
which would have been the church of your bap- 
tism ? and if you had been so unhappy as to have 
forsaken it, and had married and brought up a 
family, and then repenting of the sin you had com- 
mitted, wished again to be reconciled to the one true 
Church, which from fear or love of earthly gain you 
had forsaken, what would you have said if your chil- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


369 


dren had refused to listen to your representations, 
lest they should be tempted to forsake the newl}^ 
founded Protestant sect in which you had caused 
them to be baptized, and which, therefore, they 
might justly call the church of their baptism 

Dr. Humbletone was silent for a moment, and 
then finding himself at a loss how to reply, en- 
deavored to evade the question. 

The argument is not worth a moment's consid- 
eration, Langdale. We have no business with the 
past. We are not responsible for what occurred at 
the Reformation. No doubt there was a great deal 
in it that was quite unjustifiable, but that is not our 
affair ; we must act in the present, and endeavor, 
as far as we can, to repair the past. But it is late, 
and I would wish to see Miss Rossmore before I 
leave.” 

Mr. Langdale looked very sad. He was little 
inclined for argument that night, and longed to be 
alone with the dead. 

Katie was kneeling by Ethel’s side when he en- 
tered the room. He whispered to her that Dr. 
Humbletone wished to see her in the parlor, and 
then took her place. 

The grey dawn of morning found him still kneel- 
ing there. It was well for him that his position 
obliged him to act promptly, or grief might have 
16^ 


370 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


unnerved him for the trial he must now prepare to 
meet. 

He had been accustomed to calumny and mis- 
representation, but now a double share awaited him. 
People who had called him a traitor in the camp, 
and a Jesuit in disguise, could triumphantly an- 
nounce that they were right in their conjectures, 
and loudly declare that he only waited until he had 
done all the mischief in his power before he openly 
proclaimed himself what he was. At first, Mr. 
Langdale felt inclined to refute the charges made 
against him, but a few days’ reflection convinced 
him how hopeless such an attempt would be. If 
he was not believed while he remained a member 
of the Anglican establishment, was it likely his 
word would gain more credit when he became a 
child of the holy Catholic Church ? 

Dr. Humbletone looked anxiously at Katie as 
she entered the room. She appeared flushed and 
excited, but she was the first to speak. 

‘'You wished to see me, I think. Dr. Humble- 
tone ?” The tone of her voice was haughty and 
distant. 

He handed her a chair, and then replied : “You 
must be very weary, my child. I think you were 
a great deal with Ethel of late.” 

Katie did not answer. She was not inclined to 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


371 


speak then ; she could not but feel that Ethel’s 
death had been accelerated by Dr. Humbletone’s 
interference ; and though she thought her friend 
wrong, she could not feel kindly towards one who 
had in any w^ay increased her sufferings. 

Dr. Humbletone suspected how matters were, 
and determined that he would not part from Miss 
Rossmore until he had bound her in some way to 
himself. He looked steadily at her for a moment, 
until she was obliged to raise her eyes, and then 
with a quiet smile he continued : 

‘'You think I have injured Ethel, Miss Ross- 
more ; but you do not know what I have suffered 
on her account. You have been but lately inter- 
ested in this great movement in our church, and 
cannot possibly understand the difficulties that its 
leaders must contend with. Of these, apostacy to 
the Romish communion is one of the most fearful ; 
and to save souls from this awful step, we are 
obliged to use every means, and even such as we 
could not think justifiable under other circum- 
stances.” 

Dr. Humbletone paused. He hoped Katie would 
speak ; but she still remained silent. 

“ I could not have loved Ethel more had she 
been my own child ; and I did for her what I would 
have done for one of my own children, had they 


372 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


been similarly circumstanced. I have no doubt 
the mental weakness often produced by long suf- 
fering told itself on her naturally vigorous mind, 
and caused that apparent restlessness and dissatis- 
faction with our church so painfully manifested in 
her last moments. But it is all over now. She 
was mercifully spared from open apostacy, and 
will, I trust, be pardoned the expressions for which 
she was scarcely accountable. But, my child, we 
have to do with the living now. Your circum- 
stances are peculiar ; your dear and reverend 
father no more lives to guide and advise you ; and 
from all you tell me of your poor mother, she can 
scarcely be else than a constant addition to your 
trials. You have of late naturally and most rightly 
looked to Mr. Langdale as your guide ; but he can 
be such no longer ; he has declared to-night, most 
solemnly, that he intends to forsake the church of 
his baptism. I have long feared and anticipated 
this ; and I believe that what has occurred to-day 
has only hastened a step which would surely have 
been taken sooner or later. To whom, then, are 
you to look for guidance ? Excuse me for pressing 
the question, but be assured, when Mr. Langdale’s 
secession is made public, your position will be 
most difficult, and your trials seriously increased.’’ 

The Doctor spoke earnestly, and with such evi- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


373 


dent anxious interest in his listener's welfare, that 
Katie could not but feel touched by his kindness, 
and grateful for it. For a moment she buried her 
face in her hands, and then looked up^ steadfastly 
at her questioner. 

Indeed, Dr. Humbletone, I am sadly perplexed 
how to reply and how to act. I am aware of the 
truth of your observations. I know my position 
will be difficult and painful. If you were in Lon- 
don I would ask " 

‘‘ My child, it need not make the least difference. 
You can always write to me, and I will promise 
you at least a ^ yes ' or ‘ no ’ in reply. Only I must 
request that you will trust me, and if you do not 
at once see my reason for an advice, that you will 
not question it until I can see you, to explain my^ 
self better. I am often in London, and can always 
appoint some place where we may meet. But, my 
child, I have one request to make, and if I am to 
be your spiritual guide, I have a right to ask and 
expect your obedience, for if you do not desire to 
obey, why not guide yourself? it is, that you will 
not see Mr. Langdale again. You are naturally 
ardent and enthusiastic ; and, believe me, under 
present circumstances, you do not know how you 
might be influenced to act." 

Dr. Humbletone, I cannot make this promise. 


374 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


Mr. Langdale has been one of my kindest friends. 
I know your reasons — I know all you would say/' 
she continued, seeing he was about to speak. You 
need not fear iny becoming a Catholic ; I have 
been educated too good a Protestant for a moment 
to waver in my faith. But I would not, and I will 
not, be ungrateful. I must at least bid him fare- 
well ; and though I am aware I can be of but little 
comfort to him in his deep affliction, still, I will 
not be the one to increase his sorrows by adding 
the infliction of thanklessness to his other trials." 

I can only advise. Miss Rossmore," replied the 
Doctor, coldly ; but if my advice is rejected, you 
must seek another guide. I have not time now to 
discuss the matter further ; so I must wish you 
good-night." 

Poor Katie ! The utter desolateness of her po- 
sition flashed on her in a moment. What was she 
to do ? She felt she could not live without some 
kind of spiritual help. She had learned to believe 
that there was a safety, a blessedness, and a peace 
in obeying ; as surely there is, when the guide is 
authorized by the Eternal Truth, and speaks in His 
name and by His authority to His creatures. To 
whom could she turn now? She thought of sev- 
eral clergymen of the High Church party ; but 
she knew them only by name ; and how could she 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


375 


make acquaintance with strangers ? She had no 
doubt of the course Mr. Langdale would take, and 
saw at once that their intercourse could not be 
continued beyond a few weeks ; her darling Ethel 
was gone, she could not have even her advice ; 
Gertrude looked to her for support and sympathy, 
and would be no help in this trial ; and Edward, 
her betrothed, oh, what would he say if he knew 
that she had advanced so far towards what he 
would have called rank Popery ? Would she ever 
dare to tell him what had occurred within the last 
few days ? So absorbed was she in her painful re- 
flections, that she thought Dr. Humbletone had left 
the room, and suddenly threw herself on her knees, 
and leaning her head against a table, burst into tears. 

'' Oh, my God !” she exclaimed, what wouldst 
Thou have me to do 

In a moment she felt a hand laid gently and 
soothingly on her head, and a chair drawn close to 
where she knelt. 

Obey those who have the rule over you. My 
child, in obedience you will learn the will of God, 
and you will have peace. I may have seemed 
harsh just now, but it was necessary to teach you 
your position ; and now I only ask one thing,” he 
continued, cheerfully, '' and that I think will be 
acknowledged reasonable, even by my self-willed 


376 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


child ; return home at once, and do not see Mr. 
Langdale to-night ; it would not be good for either 
of you. I will tell him myself that I insisted on 
this, and, indeed, on all accounts it would be advis- 
able, for I am sure your mother will not like your 
remaining here so late. To-morrow, I can see you 
again, and we will speak more of these matters.” 

Katie was conquered ; conquered even more ef- 
fectually than if she had not resisted, and bound to 
Dr. Humbletone by a tie of gratitude — a strong one 
for a person with deep affections. She retired to 
rest that night with a weary head and a, heavy 
heart, and awoke with an indistinct idea that some- 
thing very painful had happened. In a few mo- 
ments she remembered all. Ethel was gone, Mr. 
Langdale perhaps she might never see again, and 
Dr. Humbletone had been very kind to her, and 
she had been very ungrateful to him ; at least, such 
was the impression her last interview with him had 
left on her mind, and Dr. Humbletone had antici- 
pated that it would be so. 

Next morning she received a note from him by 
the first post. 

My Child, — If you and your friend can be at 
St. Mary's Church at ii A. M., you will find me 
there in the vestry. Your affectionate f., W. H.” 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

High over all Vainglory's blazing throne, 

In her bright turret all of crystal wrought, 

Like Phoebus’ lamp, in midst of heaven, shone.” — Fletcher, 

UT Dr. Humbletone’s night's work had 
by no means concluded when Miss Ross- 
more was disposed of. Hastily calling 
a cab, he ordered the man to drive as quickly 
as money could induce him, to a telegraph office, 
and when arrived there it was but the work of a 
few moments to send a message to Miss Dobbs 
requesting she would telegraph for Miss Langdale, 
entreating her to come to her without a moment’s 
delay, adding that he would send a letter by the 
next train with further particulars. 

The letter was next written and despatched from 
the neighboring railway station. Miss Dobbs was 
briefly informed of Mr. Langdale’s anticipated 
secession, and that the probable effect it might 
have on his sister could only be counteracted by 
her influence, for which reason he requested she 

( 377 ) 




378 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


would give any excuse to Miss Langdale for the 
sudden summons, keep her as long as possible in 
ignorance of her brother's movements, and do all 
in her power to induce her to place herself and her 
sisters under her direction. The commission was 
a welcome one, and as speedily executed as the 
Doctor could have wished. 

It was near midnight when the message arrived. 
Miss Dobbs had retired to rest, but nocturnal ad- 
ventures were ordinary occurrences, and her spe- 
cial attendant. Infant Eliza (Miss Dobbs had adopted 
the name of “ Infant" for her novices ; it was sug- 
gestive of the mental incapacity to see with their 
own eyes, hear with their own ears, and understand 
with their own minds, which formed her idea of a 
perfect religious) was by no means surprised or 
discomposed at the summons. 

She brought the telegraphic letter and a lamp 
to her superior, and then, courtesying deeply, re- 
tired. In a moment, however, she was recalled by 
the violent ringing of a hand-bell. 

Desire Infant Ellen to come here instantly, and 
return with her." 

A small scrap of paper was handed to Infant 
Ellen when she entered the room, and she was de- 
sired to call the first cab she met, and drive to the 
railway station, where the paper was to be given 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


379 


unopened to the clerk. She was to return on foot, 
of course. Poor girl ! she had worked hard all 
day, from early morning. The walk was three 
miles, and the greater part of the way up a steep 
hill, but Miss Dobbs had no time to consider such 
trifles, so she quietly composed herself to rest. 

When Ellen returned, worn and weary, she found 
orders had been left for her to bring Miss Dobbs a 
cup of tea, a refreshment which that lady often re- 
quired at night, and when this was the case, who- 
ever had the honor of being her attendant, was ex- 
pected to rise at any hour when her bell rang, and 
prepare the meal. 

The long walk had painfully sharpened Ellen's 
gastronomic nerves, and while preparing her su- 
perior’s meal, she felt more than once the sharp 
pangs of hunger — no slight addition to the weari- 
ness of her hard day’s toil, but she dared not ask 
for, or take a morsel. Miss Dobbs did not pardon 
any self-indulgence in her subjects. 

'‘You had better be at the station to meet the 
first train to-morrow, Ellen,” said Miss Dobbs, as 
the young sister removed her tea tray. “ I think it 
comes in at six.” 

It was long past midnight then, and sister Ellen 
was more than weary. 

“ I expect Miss Langdale will arrive by it, and as 


380 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


sister Sophia is not here you must show her every 
attention you can ; have Dr. Humbletone’s room 
ready for her, but no — he will probably be here in 
a few days and will require it — the room over will 
do for her ; let her go to bed at once when she 
arrives, and tell her I desired you to beg she would 
sleep as long as possible ; and that you will let me 
know when she has breakfasted, as I am anxious to 
see her.'' 

Ellen curtsied silently and withdrew. She was 
flattered at the confidence reposed in her by Miss 
Dobbs ; it compensated for a great deal of the suf- 
fering it involved. 

The hand-bell summoned her to return. 

Sit here, dear child. I give you leave to 
speak." 

There was a flush of joy and pleasure on Ellen's 
face. It was not often Miss Dobbs permitted any 
of her sisters to converse with her. Weary as she 
was, an hour passed almost unheeded, while the 
lady mother" talked of the glorious restoration 
she hoped to effect in the Anglican church; of the 
zeal, the devotion (to herself, of course), the 
obedience that would be absolutely required in those 
who would be privileged to assist her in this great 
work. So enwrapt and fascinated was poor Ellen, 
that when she at last retired to rest her dreams were 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


381 


of Miss Dobbs, whom she pictured to herself as a 
glorious spirit on a throne of surpassing beauty, 
before which she knelt in admiring awe. That 
night's conversation, with its well devised mixture 
of flattery and affection, blinded Ellen, till her dying 
hour, to the deep selfishness of her unworthy idol. 
If Miss Dobbs required ceaseless toil, hard fare, 
short rest, and uncomplaining submission to her 
mandates, it was only what individuals who were 
preparing for so glorious an object should expect, 
and even wish to endure ; and if she herself fared 
sumptuously every day, and was clothed in fine 
linen, and lay upon couches of down and damask, 
it was but what a lady abbess should expect and 
require. At least this was Miss Dobbs’ view of the 
case, and had she not contrived to make her view 
that of some of her children, her utopian scheme 
must soon have failed for want of persons to carry it 
out. 

When Ellen was despatched on her errand In- 
fant Eliza had remained standing in the presence 
of the lady mother. She had committed a grave 
offence, and was punished accordingly. In her 
haste to bring Miss Dobbs the telegraphic message 
she had forgotten the usual formality of presenting 
the letter on a silver waiter. Miss Dobbs did not 
easily forgive what she considered personal disre- 


382 


HORNE^HURST RECTOR Y. 


pect. The sister was dismissed with, a '' caution 
that she did not forget for years, and orders. to take 
her dinner sitting on the ground for a week. 

Miss Dobbs had other reasons besides her desire 
of personal deference for this injunction. She was 
very anxious that Miss Langdale should see the ab- 
solute authority which she exercised over her chil- 
dren, as she misnamed the unfortunate victims of 
her tyranny and caprice. She hoped it would make 
a great impression on that lady ; Avhich it certainly 
did, though not precisely in the manner the lady 
mother anticipated. 

Miss Langdale's attempt at a conventual estab- 
lishment was as complete and as happy as any thing 
of the kind can be, apart from the church's grace 
and the church's sacraments, which alone can give 
stabilit}^ sanctity and peace, to a life so supernatu- 
ral. She did her utmost to make those who sur- 
rounded her happy, and in some measure she suc- 
ceeded. But though a sort of rule had been adopt- 
ed for their use, from a religious order long existing 
in the Catholic church, the sisters felt daily more 
and more that a mere rule, however good, was a 
dead letter, without a living authority to explain 
and enforce it. At every turn there were difficul- 
ties, and almost every day disagreements, more or 
less serious. Eight or ten ladies were living to- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


383 


gather whose habits and tastes were as different as 
their religious views. Some held the most extreme 
opinions of the High Church party ; others were al- 
most evangelical, and only drawn to this kind of 
life from a desire to devote themselves entirely to 
the poor. Some came from curiosity to see what^ 
it was like, and tempted by the novelty, lingered 
on. Some declared that dear Dr. Humbletone, or 
as he was sometimes called, though only in a 
whisper, ‘^Father William,’' was really and posi- 
tively infallible, and Miss Langdale sided with this 
party ; while others were equally strong for Mr. 
Slingsby or Mr. Grant. After all, notwithstanding 
some show of good which these ladies accomplished, 
it was an unhappy and useless life, more or less such 
as Protestants suppose a Catholic nun’s life to be ; 
but it remained for Miss Dobbs to carry out the 
Protestant idea to perfection. It was not in Miss 
Langdale’s nature to play the tyrant, to command 
imperiously, or live in solitary state ; but this was 
a mere accident, arising from her natural disposi- 
tion; apart from this there was no reason why 
she should not have proved Miss Dobbs’ equal in 
the exercise of arbitrary power. 

Miss Langdale herself felt that her position was 
both painful and unpleasant. She was a superior 
without authority, a spiritual mother without spir- 


384 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


itual children. She had not been chosen by the 
sisters, she had been selected by the gentlemen 
who founded the sisterhood, to preside over it ; they 
had made no promise of obedience to her, and even 
if they had, why should they obey her more than 
any one else? In fact it was a limited monarchy on 
a small scale, where the members, by tacit consent, 
allowed one person to rule, and paid that person 
just such an amount of submission as was conve- 
nient or agreeable to each individual. 

Miss Langdale had often entreated Dr. Humble- 
tone, with tears, to free her from her charge; she 
wished herself to join Miss Dobbs, but only that 
she might escape from her trying position. The 
Doctor would have gladly yielded, but he had in- 
superable difficulties to contend with. Reports had 
already gone abroad of Miss Dobbs' arbitrary and 
t3^rannical mode of exercising authority ; she was 
already known as Diotrephes, who loved to have 
the pre-eminence," and the sisters of Whetholm 
Green, one and all, protested against her rule. 
The trustees were equally determined. Miss 
Dobbs had her part}^ and a strong one, but 
there were many against her also. Still she did 
not despair. She felt sure the day would come 
when she should reign Ididy paramount over the 
Puseyite women of England ; when her talents 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 335 

and her sanctity would become of world-wide 
fame. 

It was almost morning when Ellen lay down on 
her hard pallet. Overwearied in mind and body, 
she slept heavily, and did not awake until startled 
by loud and repeated ringing at the gate. She 
had not undressed, and in a moment was at the 
door. Miss Langdale had arrived, and after the 
most sincere expressions of regret that she had 
not met her at the station, she led her to her room, 
and assisted her to undress. It was not without 
some difficulty that she persuaded her to lie down, 
and at last only succeeded by pleading that, though 
she was a superior in her own house, here she was 
dearest mother’s ” child, and must obey even the 
least intimation of her wishes. 

Five was sister Ellen’s usual time for rising, and 
it was past that hour before she left Miss Langdale. 
Hastily proceeding to the oratory, she threw her- 
self prostrate on the ground in an agony of fear. 
How would she ever be able to tell Miss Dobbs 
her fault ? And what could she ever do to atone 
for it ? Any amount of penance would have been 
gladly accepted as a favor ; but in her terror she 
could only think that the lady mother would 
drive her from her presence, and dismiss her from 
the society, as unworth}^ of it. Had she been ca- 

17 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


386 

pable of calm reflection she would not have made 
this a cause for alarm. Miss Dobbs had never sent 
any one away from her establishment in her life ; 
she was only too anxious to keep those who could 
be kept, and dreaded, as one after another fell 
away,’' that she would, perhaps, some day find 
herself in the unpleasant predicament of superi- 
ority without subjects. More than an hour passed, 
and still sister Ellen remained prostrate on the 
ground. Strange that she never reflected for a 
moment on the real cause of her trouble, or blamed 
Miss Dobbs for her inconsiderateness in expecting 
her to rise so early after a day of such fatigue. 
The conversation of the preceding evening had 
produced the effect which was hoped and expected, 
and Miss Dobbs knew well the fate of her victim 
was sealed. Again and again the poor girl re- 
proached herself for what she considered her awful 
disobedience in not having risen in time to meet 
Miss Langdale ; and again and again she resolved, 
with a heroism worthy of a better cause, that come 
what might, she would never again yield to fatigue 
or weariness, however overpowering. 

After some hours of hard work, for which she 
was but little able. Miss Dobbs’ bell sounded loudly 
through the house, and peal after peal was rung 
while she hurried breathlessly up the stairs to her 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


3B7 


apartment. At the first sound Miss Langdale had 
sprung from her bed, but as it was repeated so 
frequently and violently, without a moment's in- 
terval, she became seriously alarmed, and opened 
her door to ascertain the cause. Hearing a step 
in the passage, she called softly, and was answered 
by a sister, who begged she would not be uneasy, 
as it was only dearest Mother's " bell. It was 
some time before Miss Langdale ascertained that 
she considered it a necessary part of her dignity 
to summon her attendants in this peremptory 
fashion. 

Ellen’s offence was passed over more easily than 
she anticipated. Miss Dobbs knew her value, and 
that she had bound her to herself more closely 
than ever ; besides, Miss Dobbs had suffered no 
personal inconvenience from it, and it had not de- 
rogated from her dignity in any way ; so she was 
not inclined to be severe on that occasion. 

The effect on Ellen was such as she anticipated. 
From that hour she was the abject slave of her 
superior. No toil was too great, no fatigue too 
excessive, to atone for what the poor girl considered 
a deadly sin, while the trust which Miss Dobbs re- 
posed in her, and the favor she allowed her of be- 
ing her constant attendant, flattered her pride and 
blinded her to the deep selfishness and intolerable 


388 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


arrogance, of which she was a daily witness, ex- 
hibited under the plea that it was necessary for a 
person in her position to be worshiped like a 
Chinese emperor and served like an Eastern mon- 
arch. 

The lady mother’s toilette was elaborate. Of 
course, she could not be expected to dress like or- 
dinary mortals, or to clothe herself like her sisters, 
or, we should rather say, her slaves. Her inner 
garments were of the finest material ; her exterior 
dress, though assuming in some degree a “relig- 
ious ” appearance, was no less costly. A robe of 
the finest black cashmere flowed as gracefully 
around her as a strong inclination to embonpoint 
would permit. Her white sleeves and collar were 
of the finest cambric, and her cap of the most 
costly tulle ; the latter was, indeed, the most ex- 
pensive item of her personal attire, for she required 
a new one at least twice a week. On state occa- 
sions it was surrounded by a veil of black net, 
embroidered in gold with grapes and vine-leaves. 
When thus attired. Miss Dobbs felt that she was 
• not a person to be looked down upon, and pri- 
vately pitied the “ Ancient Orders of Holy Church ” 
on which she had remolded her institute, that they 
had not possessed such an ornament. 

For a time she fluctuated in her choice of a 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 389 

model for her ecclesiastical renovation. A model ! 
We forget ourselves, she was the model herself 
par excellence ; but as the religious life had existed 
hundreds of years before Miss Dobbs was even 
thought of, and as it was impossible to do the thing 
altogether de novo^ she was obliged to accept some 
of the forms and regulations already in use. Still 
she was determined not to be enslaved to them. 
Why should she, with her superior lights and ac- 
quirements, with the great advantage she possessed 
of having been educated in the enlightened nine- 
teenth century, and the pure Protestant blood that 
flowed in her veins ? 

Miss Dobbs was not fond of lying on a sofa ; it 
is not the most comfortable position for a person 
inclined to obesity ; but she did thoroughly enjoy 
a lounge in an easy-chair. She was engaged in 
this agreeable occupation one evening shortly be- 
fore she left her father's house for her first resi- 
dence at D ; the shades of evening were closing 

in ; the day had been oppressively hot, and the 
cool breeze played deliciously through her spacious 
chamber ; it was a moment for luxurious, dreamy 
thought, and Miss Dobbs enjoyed it to the full. 
Already she anticipated the crowds who were to 
flock round her in admiring homage ; already she 
saw a conventual establishment rising in every 


390 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V, 


town in England — nay, in Great Britain, filled with 
sisters, all under her rule ; already she anticipated 
the delight of so vast a sphere of authority, and 
imagined herself telegraphing now to York, now 
to London, now to Edinburgh, now to Exeter, and 
saw her commands obeyed with unquestioning 
submission and eager zeal ; already she gloried in 
the triumph she should have over that church in 
whose calm and holy shadow thousands of monas- 
teries have been founded, and thousands of religious 
have lived and died. Alas ! how she pitied them ! 
but now, now they would flock beneath her stan- 
dard, they would own her rule, they would ac- 
knowledge, one and all, Carmelites, Benedictines, 
Augustinians, Dominicans, Franciscans, Jesuits, 
that they had failed ; that their perfection had 
never been attained until they said the Breviary, 
Secundum usum Humbletone, 
and lived a conventual life. 

Secundum usum Dobbs. 

Good heavens ! She started at the name — Dobbs. 
It was frightful, and, worse still, there was no chance 
of mending the matter. Jemima Dobbs ! Who had 
ever heard of such a name for an individual who 
was destined to become so illustrious ? She might 
marry ; nay, good reader, do not start ! Miss Dobbs 
was above the trammels of ordinary conventual 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


391 


life. Of course, her sisters could not marry, or 
even allow such an idea to cross their minds for a 
moment. But Miss Dobbs had no idea of conform- 
ing to the regulations she enforced on them. They 
were to fast rigorously, and so they did ; but fast- 
ing was entirely at variance with the idea of a 
lady superior, secundum Dobbs. They were to 
have hard work and little rest ; but this rule should 
by no means extend to the great Foundress. Why, 
then, should she not marry ? Her establishment as 
Miss Dobbs — we beg her pardon — as the Lady 
Mother,’' was quite as expensive, and even more 
so, than that of many highly respectable private 
families. 

After a few moments’ consideration, she resolved 
that, on the whole, it was better to remain single. 
Her success mainly depended on Dr. Humbletone’s 
influence, and she strongly doubted if he would 
ever be induced to sanction such a proceeding. 
Then the question was, who she would marry. Not 
lower than a bishop, certainly. But was there one 
worthy of the honor — one who could appreciate a 
Dobbs ? She doubted it ; and, no doubt, she was 
right. 

It was not long before Miss Dobbs became very 
distinctly aware that, unless she could induce ladies 
to join her, and obtain means to support her estab- 


392 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


lishment, it must terminate in failure. To effect this 
most desirable end, it was absolutely necessary 
that her great object should not be known, and 
that she should simply appear before the world as 
a philanthropic lady, burning with zeal for the wel- 
fare of her kind, and anxious to devote her time 
and her fortune to the poor and afflicted. 

People were beginning to think that charity to 
the poor meant something more than giving them 
money, and to believe (in all reverence be it spoken) 
that our Divine Lord really meant what He said, 
when He declared that He considered what was 
done to the poor as. done to Himself, and that the 
measure of our service to the unfortunate would 
be the measure of our reward at the great Day of 
Doom. 

There was a pining for that which had been — 
for the old monastic times, and the old monastic 
life ; and men were surmising that their forefathers 
had not been altogether so insane as they had here- 
tofore supposed, when they gave either themselves 
or their worldly goods entirely to their Maker. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

“ Pray thou for all who living tread 

Upon this earth of graves.” — Victor Hugo. 

R. HUMBLETONE was earnest in the 
same matter, and, as we have already 
seen. Miss Dobbs was soon surrounded 
by a band of helpers, all more or less anxious to 
devote themselves to works of mercy. There were 
other establishments of a similar nature in other 
parts of England, all of which the Lady Mother 
hoped in time to see under her own rule. 

Human nature is a great enigma, and it is not for 
us to say whether this desire, so ceaselessly pur- 
sued, so fondly cherished, was the fruit of an inor- 
dinate ambition, so notoriously the ruling passion 
of all who have embarked in executive religious 
careers, or the result of a fanatical belief that she 
had, indeed, a divinely authorized commission to 
act in this capacity. 

It was not for several years after she “ commenced 
17* U93) 



394 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


Reverend Mother ” that her plans were fully de- 
veloped ; but the time was not lost. She had se- 
cured the attachment, and fascinated the minds, of 
some eight or ten individuals, whom she felt sure 
would never desert her cause, and she trusted to 
Dr. Humbletone’s influence to increase her num- 
bers and supply the places of those who constantly 
left her, disappointed in their expectations, wearied 
of a life which promised so much and gave so little, 
or utterly disgusted with the hollowness of her 
professions and the self-indulgence of her life. 

While Miss Dobbs was breakfasting, the parcel 
containing Dr. Humbletone’s letter was presented 
to her. In a moment she had resolved on the 
course to be pursued. A sister was hastily sum- 
moned, and ordered to take a note to the telegraph 
office, desiring four or five sisters to come from 
D by the next train. 

The ‘‘ Lady Mother” had several reasons for is- 
suing this mandate. Miss Langdale had been ac- 
customed to have the office said regularly in choir 
at Whetholm, and would, perhaps, feel surprised 
that this was not done at Dunhill. The amount of 
personal attendance required by Miss Dobbs made 
it impossible for the two sisters with her to do 
more than prepare her meals and attend to the 
domestic concerns ; besides if there were others in 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


395 


the house, she hoped it would afford additional 
opportunity to Miss Langdale for contrasting 
the failures at Whetholm Green with her supe- 
rior mode of carrying out a conventual establish- 
ment. 

Unfortunately for the success of these well-plan- 
ned schemes, the superioress of Whetholm was not 
without her misgivings. She heard a great deal of 
public affairs, even in the parlor of her sisterhood, 
and was well aware that already a strong feeling 
existed against Miss Dobbs amongst her Puseyite 
acquaintances, and of the reasons which had ex- 
cited mistrust and apprehension. A near relation 
of Miss Stapleton's had called on her a few days 
previous, and had given her a correct and detailed 
account of that young lady’s conversion, and as the 
gentleman, a Protestant clergyman, was himself 
most anxious to establish a sisterhood in his own 
parish, he dwelt at length upon the subject, being 
desirous to ascertain what Miss Langdale knew of 
Miss Dobbs, and whether her sisterhood was gov- 
erned in the same tyrannical manner as evidently 
obtained in the establishments of the latter. Mr. 
Comer was greatly distressed at what he termed 
Miss Stapleton’s secession, but blamed Miss Dobbs 
entirely for it, declaring that if she had behaved 
more like a mother and less like a domestic tyrant. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


396 

his young friend would not have been driven to 
Rome.” 

Although Mr. Langdale had not mentioned his 
apprehensions to his sister, she had heard of them 
in other quarters, and much as she longed to be 
freed from the cares and responsibilities of her of- 
fice, she was not without misgivings concerning 
her cotemporary. But Dr. Humbletone’s influence 
was strong, and he had long bent all his energies 
on the one point of inducing her to deliver herself 
up to Miss Dobbs, hoping that if this point were 
gained, her sisters would find themselves without 
any one capable of guiding their establishment, and 
would either leave it for Miss Dobbs’, or surrender 
at discretion ; the latter alternative, how^ever, he 
preferred, as it would serve to increase the num- 
ber of that lady’s followers. 

Miss Langdale was not aware that the sisters had 

been sent for from D , nor did she see Miss 

Dobbs until after their arrival. Probably she 
would not have known that they were not inmates 
of the house, had not one of the younger sisters 
made some remark about their journey, at recrea- 
tion in the evening. In an instant she was silenced 
by a look from a senior, but she had betrayed the 
secret, not supposing it to be one, and Miss Lang- 
dale, though a little curious about the matter, for- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


397 


bore to make any remark, lest it should add to her 
confusion. It was not until she was retiring to 
rest that she was summoned to an interview with 
Miss Dobbs ; the sister who conducted her to that 
lady’s private apartments, informing her on the 
way that dearest Mother” had been so ill all day, 
that she was even then scarcely able to speak or to 
raise her head from the couch, but that she could 
not bear to let the day pass wdthout seeing her at 
whatever cost of suffering to herself. 

The interview was not concluded until a late 
hour, and so judiciously was it managed that when 
Miss Langdale returned to her cell, she felt more 
favorably impressed by the lady mother than she 
could have supposed. Anxious to ascertain how 
far she would yield what that individual consid- 
ered obedience, and how far she could be exercised 
in it, she at once told her that she had sent for 
her by Dr. Humbletone’s desire, and she hoped 
she would remain patiently and trustfully until he 
arrived to explain the matter more fully. Miss 
Langdale had no choice but to acquiesce ; still she 
felt it a serious trial, for she knew her absence 
from Whetholm Green would be the cause of 
much painful trial in that establishment. The 
sister who took her place in her absence was quite 
unfit for such a charge, and poor Miss Langdale 


398 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


could not but have the most serious misgivings as 
to what might occur in her absence. Her own 
authority was submitted to rather from necessity 
and personal influence, than from any love of 
obedience or comprehension of its real meaning; 
and when another, with no semblance of authority, 
with a quick temper and a brusqueness of manner 
hardly tolerable even in ordinary life, took the 
reigns of government, what anarchy and confusion 
might not be expected to follow? 

Miss Langdale was naturally trustful ; her char- 
acter, like her brother’s, was open and generous, 
and anything like intrigue was so foreign to her 
own disposition and inclinations, that she was 
slow to suspect another of it, much less to imagine 
that she had fallen into the hands of a person emi- 
nently skilled in the art. 

Several days passed away, during each of which 
she had long interviews with Miss Dobbs. Every 
opportunity was taken to show her the abject sub- 
mission paid to that individual by her subjects, but 
all was done with an apparent carelessness, as if it 
were the ordinary course of things. Miss Lang- 
dale could not see below the surface, therefore it 
was only natural that she should suppose all was 
real which seemed so. 

Night after night Miss Dobbs’ bell would peal 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


399 


through the house, startling every one from their 
sleep, and obliging some unfortunate sister to rise 
and attend her. Sometimes she required her pillows 
arranged ; sometimes an hour or more would pass 
lighting a fire and making tea for the invalid. Dur- 
ing the day her summonses were as frequent and as 
peremptory, but Miss Langdale’s charity persuaded 
her as necessary. Could she doubt that Miss Dobbs 
was a victim to a great cause, and sinking under 
the continually increasing weight of care with which 
she was burdened. If Dr. Humbletone was over- 
whelmed with the care of all the churches, surely 
Miss Dobbs could not be less oppressed when 
charged with the spiritual government of the 
women of England. Yes, her field of labor was 
large, and despite the ingratitude, indifference, and 
perhaps contempt of some of its objects, she felt 
the time must come when every woman in the na- 
tion, young or old, married or single, rich or poor, 
must yield to her sway, and guide their households, 
converse with their relatives, say their prayers, man- 
age their husbands, regulate their dinner-parties, 
bring up their children and frame their religious 
belief. 

Secundum Dobbs. 

Many were the occasions on which the sisters 
were exercised in obedience for Miss Langdale’s 


400 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


special benefit. When wearied from some hard 
domestic duty they were despatched on an errand 
to some distant part of the town, or sent to kneel 
for an hour in the oratory ; and once when Miss 
Langdale admired some flowers which were taste- 
fully arranged in a vase on Miss Dobbs' table, the 
senior sister was asked if any had been placed in 
the visitor's room, and when a reply was given in 
the negative, she was desired to go and gather some 
for her, and on her return, although it was very 
late in the evening and she had gone through a hard 
day's work, she was again sent into the pleasure- 
ground for more. The anticipated effect was pro- 
duced. Miss Langdale knew very well she dared 
not try the obedience of her sisters in this way, 
and she could not help envying the deference and 
abject submission which Miss Dobbs' mandates re- 
ceived. It was but natural that she should contrast 
her own position with that of the lady mother, and 
the result was a very decided conviction, that if an 
arbitrary government was not the more Catholic, it 
was assuredly the more pleasant for the ruling 
power. 

By degrees Miss Dobbs artfully drew from her 
a confession of her trials, and the apparently insu- 
perable difficulties of her position, and so worked 
on Miss Langdale’s sensitive mind, that before Dr 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


401 

Humbletone’s arrival she had almost succeeded in 
the object which both had so much at heart. The 
unfortunate superioress was led to believe that the 
fault was all her own, and that ifher subjects failed 
in obedience, it was simply because she failed in 
government. 

But Miss Langdale had spent a great deal of 
time abroad, and more than once the recollec- 
tion of gentle nuns, and patient, loving superior- 
esses, who lived with their children, dressed like 
them, and shared their sorrows and their joys, 
flashed across her memory, and she could not help 
thinking how unlike what she had seen of their life 
was to all she saw here. Miss Dobbs’ illnesses, too, 
appeared strangely convenient; they always oc- 
curred precisely when she wished to be prevented 
going where she did not wish to go, and doing 
what she did not wish to do ; while her utter disre- 
gard of all rule herself, her luxurious fare, costly 
dress, and expensive furniture, certainly did not 
correspond Avith any thing she had ever seen or 
heard of in a Catholic convent. There was no 
trace of restlessness, impatience, or weariness in 
the calm and holy faces tha't still lived in her mem- 
ory. And with all Miss Dobbs’ precautions she 
could not but see that the sisters under her control 
were far from happy. 


402 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


Had Miss Langdale been an inmate of Miss 
Dobbs’ establishment, a few months would have 
satisfied her of the utter, hopeless misery of the 
life of a Protestant sister of mercy. She would have 
seen the victims of female despotism drag out an 
unhappy existence day after day, and heard them 
wishing for death, not that they might be with their 
God, but that they might escape from mental 
anguish and bodily suffering. She would have 
heard the long private conversations at stolen inter- 
vals, in which they sought the sympathy from each 
other which was not expected and would not be 
given by her who dared to profane the title of 
mother. She would have heard the stifled groan 
and the uttered sigh, and she would have seen the 
hours supposed to be given to prayer spent in hope- 
less musings over real and serious wrongs. Warm 
young hearts were chilled and blighted ; holy as- 
pirings were crushed down to earth, and when the 
stricken spirit dared to complain, its very humility, 
if it had any, was made its stumbling block, and it 
was withered into silence by cold contempt, or 
driven to despair by accusations of pride and pre- 
sumption in daring to think a thought, to have an 
idea, or to frame a word contrary to the opinions 
of its self-constituted superiors. 

Had Miss Langdale seen the death-bed of one 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 


403 

of these poor victims, how would her sympathies 
have increased ! 

The most wretched creature in an hospital or a 
work-house would have received more care than the 
unhappy sister. Destitute even of the common 
necessaries of life, and left to die without a word 
of kindness, without even a single spiritual consola- 
tion, such was the miserable end of more than one 
inmate of Miss Dobbs' establishment. Infatuated 
by a false zeal, or blinded by intolerable pride and 
self-love, the so-called mother went on, unheeding 
the miseries around her, indulging a few to secure 
their personal services and devotion to herself, and 
leaving the rest to pine in misery, a misery which 
they endured only and solely because they believed 
so much of Catholic truth as teaches the blessed- 
ness of giving up all for God and Heaven ; a misery 
which, had they believed the whole of that truth, 
they could not have suffered, for the Catholic church 
has legislated for her children, and none dare assume 
authority uncalled, or could exercise that author- 
ity in an arbitrary and tyrannical manner un- 
checked. 

The superioress of a Catholic convent, be she 
Abbess, Prioress, or Reverend Mother, even if she 
be the founder of a new order, a rare case indeed, 
cannot take on herself her office. She must first 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


;404 

learn before she can teach, she must obey before 
she can govern ; for that church has not taught 
that ‘‘ she who governs undergoes a far deeper dis- 
cipline from her office than any obedience can con- 
stitute but rather, with St. Paul, forbids that a 

neophyte (or novice) should be invested with au- 
thority, lest being puffed up with pride he fall into 
the snare of the devil.’' She must be a postulant, 
and then a novice, and then many years a nun, be- 
fore she can be elected to her office ; and after she 
has worked and lived as her sisters have done, she is 
only raised above them to be more than ever their 
companion and their friend. Far from securing for 
herself a position of ease and independence, she 
finds her labor doubled, her rest broken, her anx- 
ieties increased, her time interrupted ; but she 
bears it in silence, with patience, nay, with joy ; 
since in ministering to the spiritual or temporal 
wants of her children, she ministers to those who 
hav^e left father and mother and houses and lands 
for the love of Him who left His Father and the 
celestial palaces of his Father’s kingdom for love 
of them. It is true, she is obeyed ; it is true, she is 
loved ; but she is obeyed not for her own authority, 

* Dr. Pusey made this rather original statement at his speech 
before the Oxford Congress, on the subject of Protestant Sister 
hoods. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


405. 


for she has none of her own ; but for His sake, 
^who, in His own person, sanctified obedience to a 
creature, and became obedient even unto death, and 
because she has been lawfully constituted in her 
office by those to whom she also renders the most 
exact obedience, the most scrupulous account of 
her charge. And she is as much bound to obey 
the rules of her order as the youngest novice in the 
house ; nay, more, since she has vowed to .observe 
them, and the novice has not. It is true she is 
loved, but it is because she has won that love by 
the more than maternal tenderness she has exercised 
toward her children^ 

Did Miss Dobbs believe that the Protestant idea 
of conventual government was the best, or was she 
totally ignorant of the ordinary life of a Catholic 
nun? If she had not put herself in the position of 
a superior her ignorance would have been excusa- 
ble ; if she preferred the Protestant idea, and was 
anxious to model a convent on it, she certainly suc- 
ceeded to admiration. 




CHAPTER XXVIII. 

" EXCELSIOR.” 

. “ As these white robes are soiled and dark, 

To yonder shining ground ; 

As this pale taper’s earthly spark, 

To yonder argent round ; 

So shows my soul before the Lamb, 

My spirit before Thee ; 

So in my earthly house I am. 

To that I hope to be.” 

— Sf, Agnes* Eve, Tennyson. 

HE month of May was almost over, and 
Madeleine looked unusually sad when 
Mere Angelique announced at recreation 
that she thought some of the decorations in the 
little chapel must soon be taken down, as it would 
be necessary to have a thorough cleaning before 
Corpus Christi. 

Our little postulant will help you, soeur Fiddle,'’ 
continued the Mother Abbess. She loves to be 
near the sanctuary. Happy child!'’ she mur- 
mured to herself, ^'to have made it her home so 
young." 

(406) 



HORNE’HURST RECTOR F. 


407 


The sister rose, respectfully, when her superior 
spoke, and in a moment was seated again. But 
M^re Angelique noticed, to her surprise, that there 
was a slight expression of perplexity in her face, 
and with a mother's instinct suspected something 
was wrong. She observed, too, that Madeleine did 
not answer, or look up in her usual joyous way ; 
but in a moment the conversation was resumed 
amongst the sisters as gayly as ever, and the gentle 
Abbess, always anxious for the happiness of her 
children, was laughing merrily at a mistake made 
by their Belgian lay sister that morning. 

Dear mother, you should have seen soeur Frances 
when Stephanie asked for mice for the soup, and 
declared you ordered it, and that she must have it. 
At first she was quite perplexed, and assured 
Stephanie it must be a mistake, but as she reiterated 
her demand, soeur Frances thought, perhaps, it was 
a Belgian custom, and that as frogs were used in 
France, perhaps mice were used in Belgium. For- 
tunately, I was passing at the moment, for you 
know soeur St6phanie is rather quick-tempered, and 
she was getting — " 

“ My child,” interrupted M^re Angelique, gent- 

ly- 

In a moment the young sister was on her knees. 

Dear mother, it is my fault ! ” 


4o8 


HORNE-HURSr RECTOR Y. 


A moment more, and the conversation was con- 
tinued as cheerfully as before. ^‘Well, and how 
did the affair end?” inquired the Abbess. 

Oh, it was soon settled then,” continued the 
sister who had been speaking, and whose little act 
of humiliation for her fault, if it had left a passing 
flush on her cheek, brought only a deeper peace to 
her heart, and was too ordinary an occurrence to 
excite remark. I asked Stephanie in Belgian what 
she meant, and, I assure you, she laughed as heartily 
as either of us when I explained her mistake, and 
in a moment was on her knees, begging soeur 
Frances’ pardon for having spoken so quickly, and 
for being so positive.” 

Mere Angelique glanced round the room, and 
noticed that soeur Frances was absent. She was 
attending to some domestic duty, which could not 
be postponed. ‘‘And what did sister Frances 
say ? ” 

“ Ah, ma mere, you could tell that 3^ourself. She 
would scarcely let Stephanie kneel down ; so I left 
them embracing each other in the kitchen, and 
looking as happy, and even more so than if nothing 
had happened to disturb either of them.” 

The bell for vespers sounded a few moments . 
after, and, when the office was concluded, the Ab- 
bess called sister Fidele to her room. She was 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


409 


\ 


anxious about what had passed at recreation, and 
wished to see her alone. The Mere Angelique was 
the only person in the house who had a separate 
apartment — if a closet, ten feet by six, could be 
dignified by such a name. Personally, she would 
have been far more comfortable in either of the 
comparatively large rooms used by the sisters as 
dormitories, but personal comfort was not an item 
in the Mere Angelique’s calculations. There was a 
room on the stairs which admitted a small bed, a 
wash-stand, and a chair, and this was chosen by 
her for the convenience of her children. It was 
the only place where they could enjoy their greatest 
earthly comfort, and one of their greatest spiritual 
privileges — a quiet talk with their saintly mother. 
It was here they told her of their hopes and fears, 
their sorrows and joys, of their little temptations, 
and their struggles to overcome them ; or of their 
imperfections, and failures in their heavenward 
course. And here they were strengthened, directed 
and guided by one who had trodden the same path 
before, and who, from her own experience, could 
S37mpathize in their trials, and teach them how best 
to surmount their difficulties. The moments passed 
here were golden spots in their memories. Happ}^ 
they who have such memories in their keeping. 

Sister Fidele was seated on the window-ledge, 
18 


410 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


the only available spot in the little room, and the 
Abbess on the chair, beside* her. How trustfully 
the young sister looked up into the calm, beautiful 
face of the elder nun, and how tenderly the superior 
smiled on the gentle, trustful child ! Four years 
ago, neither had even known of the existence of 
the other. Apparent accident had brought the 
family of the sister to Nantes, and while on a visit 
with a friend, who lived near the Convent of the 
Pauvre Clarisse, she had become acquainted with 
its saintly inmates. For several years she had 
earnestly desired the life of a religieuse^ but she 
lacked the courage to take the first step. The 
world looked bright, and though she cared not for 
its fashions or its gayeties, still it seemed hard to 
sever herself from it forever; and the tempter, 
ever jealous of the consecration of a soul to God, 
painted the trial in its darkest colors. The little 
world of home was the real trial, the real test of 
her sincerity. It is more than eighteen hundred 
years since our Master declared that he who loved 
father or mother more than Him, was not worthy 
of Him; and for more than eighteen hundred 
years the great struggle has gone on between love 
of Jesus and love of home and friends. It is more 
than eighteen hundred years since He cried, ‘d^et 
the dead bury their dead, but follow thou Me 


HORNE HURST RECTOR Y. 


4II 

more than eighteen hundred years since He 
chose one here and one there, and bade them 
leave all that was brightest and most beautiful, all 
that was nearest and dearest, at His word. Men 
murmured and repined, and wept, heart-broken, 
because the domestic circle missed a familiar face, 
a cherished form, a treasured voice ; but still the 
call is whispered and answered, though still the 
bereaved weep, and the faithful soul must suffer, 
even while it bears away the victor’s palm. 

Elise’s affections were strong, and where she 
loved, she loved with her whole heart. How could 
she part with the gentle mother, who had nursed 
her from a child ? How could she say farewell to 
the dear sisters, who were almost a part of herself? 
Her brother, ah ! she had said something once to 
him of it, but he had turned away with tears in 
his eyes, and for days a shade of sorrow had rested 
on his manly brow ; her father, poor old man ! she 
was the child of his old age, the youngest of his 
summer flowers; must he, too, suffer? will she 
cloud the sunshine of his last days, and bring his 
grey hair with sorrow to the grave ? The tempter 
was skillful, and Elise was weak ; but there was 
Another than the tempter, and Another than Elise, 
who watched the struggle, who whispered the call 
and gave the grace to follow it. 


412 


BORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


Home was beautiful and friends were very dear, 
but neither home nor friends can satisfy a soul 
whom the Celestial Bridegroom asketh to be all 
His own. Alas, for those who wear away their 
lives in resisting His gentle call, who have neither 
the enjoyment of life intended for those whose 
place is to be in the world and who use its pleas- 
ures and its domestic happiness as God wills they 
should, nor the blessed rest and peace of those 
who have courage to renounce all for God ! Alas, 
for them ! lest refusing a crown of diamonds, they 
win not a crown of gold ; alas ! lest, refusing to fol- 
low the Celestial Bridegroom on earth, they find 
not their place at the marriage feast of the Immac- 
ulate Lamb in heaven. 

Poor Elise ! The struggle was hard, as it ever 
is where there is a prize worth struggling for ; but 
she was not yielding, though it often seemed even to 
herself that she was all but overcome. Help came 
when and where it was least expected. Elise's 
warm affections were not to be lavished on crea- 
tures ; and yet, a creature was the means of leading 
her to make the complete offering of them to her 
God, even as the purest and most spotless of crea- 
tures is the means by which we find access to our 
Creator. 

There was a winning grace about the Mere 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


413 


Angelique that few could resist ; even those who 
never dreamed of a religious life, and were never 
intended by God to leave their domestic hearth, if 
they saw her but once, wearied until they could 
see her again. It was not that she spoke much of 
God or of spiritual things ; but she lived in him ; 
and her every look and action was redolent with 
the odour of celestial sweetness. But it was the 
sorrowful or the tired who were peculiarly attracted 
to her. The spirit of the sainted foundress of the 
order still breathes and lives in its cloistered homes, 
and it is a spirit of deepest tenderness, nourished 
and daily increased by sympathy with the suffer- 
ings of the God made man. It was almost an in- 
stinct, though in truth, a very blessed one, with 
Mfere Angelique to understand the trials of others. 
A few moments' conversation with Elise satisfied 
her that she had received a call to consecrate her- 
self entirely to God, and convinced her that she 
only needed patient and loving help to enable her 
to comply faithfully with the grace. A few weeks 
proved the correctness of the M^re Angelique's 
opinion. Elise opened her whole heart to the 
young Abbess, and found that she was neither sur- 
prised nor shocked that she should find it hard to 
make the sacrifice that God demanded of her. 
The temptation was more than half vanquished 


414 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


when it was plainly recognized to be such. Few 
earnest souls will really yield to a temptation when 
they see it plainly ; but it often requires no little 
spiritual skill and discernment, in those who guide 
others, to place their difficulties in such a light as 
shall enable them to distinguish clearly the artifices 
of the evil one. Elise had thought her clinging to 
home so natural as almost to be justifiable ; it was 
not until she opened her heart to Mere Angelique 
that she saw clearly that this affection was precisely 
the sacrifice that God asked her to make to Him. 
She was surprised when the young Abbess told 
her that her love need not be — nay, must not be 
crushed. God will not take withered flowers ; in 
all its freshness, in all its beauty, in all its purity, 
she must offer the rightful and holy love she bore 
to father and mother, to brother and sister, and, 
laying it on the altar of the wounded heart of Jesus, 
offer it to the Eternal Father as a free and noble 
gift, even as He had sacrificed for her the Son of 
His eternal love. ^ He would give her a return 
beyond all price, in permitting her to walk amongst 
the virgin wsouls who follow the Lamb whitherso- 
ever He goeth ; and for the earthly love she sacri- 
ficed, she would receive ten thousand fold of 
celestial sweetness. 

Dear Elise ! She could not tell if it was sorrow 


IIORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


415 

for the parents she was leaving, 6r burning, ecstatic 
love for the Spouse to whom she was going, that 
filled her eyes with tears and her heart with a 
strange new joy on the morning that she left her 
father's house. Four years had passed away since, 
and she was now in England, far from her sunny 
home, and far from all she loved. It is true, she 
might have remained in France, where she could 
frequently have seen her parents ; but a strong and 
holy motive had brought her to London. She felt 
that Mere Angelique had been the instrument 
chosen by God to lead her nearer to Himself ; she 
knew that she was still weak and imperfect in vir- 
tue, and felt, even more and more each day, how 
much she needed a hand to guide, a voice to warn 
and encourage — nay, even a severe love to correct. 
Her life had but one object now ; and that one 
object was to become more fit to be the spouse of 
Jesus. It is true, her vows were made, her sacri- 
fice externally was complete, but the beauty of the 
king’s daughter is within, and sister Fidele would 
be faithful not merely in name, but in her every 
act and thought, that when the Beloved One sum- 
moned her home, she might appear before him 
without spot. When the foundation to London 
was proposed, she asked earnestly to accompany 
her beloved mother, and she was not refused ; yet. 


4i6 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


had the sacrifice of parting from her superior been 
required of her, she would have made it gra- 
ciously, whatever it might have cost, and would 
have rested satisfied that God would supply, 
through some other channel, the means of sancti- 
fication which she found in being under her guid- 
ance. 

A few words explained what Mere Angelique 
had noticed at recreation. Sister Fiddle had charge 
of the little chapel, and Madeleine had been ap- 
pointed to work with her. She had not been very 
well the day before, and the Mother Abbess had 
desired her not to rise at the usual hour. Sister 
Fiddle had not noticed this, and when she went for 
Madeleine to assist her in arranging the altar, she 
found her at her prayers. Like many persons who 
are very devout in the world, the poor child 
thought she would commit a serious fault if she 
postponed them, even for a necessary dut}^ and 
when sister Fidele pressed her to come, as all the 
other sisters were engaged in their usual avoca- 
tions, and she really needed help more than usual, 
Madeleine had positively refused, and had even 
shown an impatience of manner so contrary to her 
usual gentleness, as to surprise the young sister. 
Mere Angelique had been very much engaged all 
day, or she would probably have heard of it before, 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


417 


for sister Fidele was perplexed how to act, as Mad- 
eleine had not come to assist her as usual after their 
mid-day meal, and Madeleine had already learned 
that her safest and happiest course was to tell her 
superior all her little trials. But though both had 
wished to see the Abbess alone for a few moments, 
her engagements made it impossible, and poor 
Madeleine, unused to such unavoidable disappoint- 
ments, had come rather sadly to recreation, after 
she had tapped several times at the Mere Angel- 
ique’s cell door without hearing the usual answer. 

It was but a trifle, after all, and yet are not our 
daily joys and sorrows usually caused by the most 
trivial occurrences ? A word, a look, a smile, may 
bring sunshine or gloom to a sensitive heart, even 
for hours or days. But when the whole life is 
dedicated in an especial manner to any object, the 
most trifling' circumstance connected with that 
object becomes of the utmost importance. The 
reputation of a painter may depend upon his no- 
ticing a gleam of sunshine, or the mingled darkness 
and light of a summer shower ; a poet’s laurels 
may be won by a thoughtful glance at the yellow 
primrose” beneath his feet, or the 

“wee modest crimson tipped flower” 

crushed under the plowman’s harrow. A Chris- 
18* 


4 1 8 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

tian’s place in the many mansions of his Father’s 
House, the jewels of his crown, and the freshness 
of his palms, may depend, nay, we are assured by 
the Eternal Truth itself, will depend even on such 
trifles as giving or not giving a cup of cold water, 
as heeding or not heeding how we offend the 
feeblest lambs in the Good Shepherd’s fold. 

While we wander in the darkness of earth, and 
grope our way amid the mists of sin, our view of 
the relative value of what we call trifles or import- 
ant matters, must be incorrect. In proportion as we 
become purified from evil and like unto God, our 
perceptions will be enlightened and our judgment 
become more correct. 

If our one object in life is sanctity, all that hin- 
ders or accelerates its attainment will become of the 
highest importance. It is this, precisely, which 
makes attention to the most minute observances of 
the religious life a matter of such moment for 
those who have embraced it. Their object is to 
become like their Divine Spouse, who practised 
for their example and for their sanctification the 
most perfect obedience, the most abject poverty, 
the most sublime purity, and this in the least and 
lowest details of domestic life. 

It may be but a trifle to detain a beggar half an 
hour before we give him a promised alms, but who 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


419 


would consider it of no consequence to delay five 
minutes when the pleasure of a monarch was in 
question? In the world we may admire persons 
who are punctual or exact in their engagements, 
but a few moments earlier or later in rising, at 
meals, or even in devotion, could be of little con- 
sequence ; in a cloister, where the King of kings is 
served, moments are worth a monarch’s ransom, 
and a few seconds' unnecessary delay in dutjq be- 
comes a neglect of the will- of Him whose example 
the religious is bound to follow even in the mi- 
nutest duties or pleasures of her daily life, and of 
the honor of that God for whom her every action 
is performed, and whose special and chosen hand- 
maid she has become. 

But it may be long before this truth is fully 
realized, and years may elapse before its perfection 
is attained. What wonder then that a young girl 
who had only just entered on this life of sublime 
sanctity, should prefer a pious inclination to a duty 
of obedience ? 

At first she was surprised that it could be right, 
even by any possibility, to leave her devotions for 
any other employment, but it was not long before 
Mere Angelique convinced her that obedience was 
better than sacrifice, and that work, if done for 
God and to please Him, might be in truth the sub- 


420 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


limest act of worship. Hers was a simple and a 
trustful heart, and she knew that she was guided 
by one who had authority to direct, and more than 
common wisdom to guide her in the exercise of 
that authority. 

Madeleine’s head was nestled on the young Ab- 
bess’ shoulder, and she drank in her every word as 
the flowers drink in the rain that hastens their 
growth and refreshes their thirst. 

“ And now, my child,” continued the Mere An- 
gelique, ‘‘ my advice to you is, to think no more of 
this matter. You will go to bed wiser than you 
got up, and your humiliation for your fault will be 
a precious little offering to make to Him whom you 
so ardently desire to call your Spouse. There are 
few things more injurious to one who desires to 
aim at a life of perfection than brooding over their 
temptations or their sins. We have no time for 
self, for we must be all for God. Our thoughts are 
His, as well as our words and actions, and it is onl}^ 
pride that makes us reflect gloomily on our faults. 
After all, yours was a mistake, rather than a fault, 
and, depend on it, you will make plenty more be- 
fore you are ten years older, if your life is spared 
so long.” 

But, dear mother, I am afraid sister Fidele will, 
will — .” Madeleine could not get it out. She 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


421 


felt she had shown impatience of manner to the 
sister, and she had seen enough of the humility of 
the religious, even in her short intercourse with 
them, to know she ought to acknowledge her 
fault. 

I know what my little postulant would say,” 
interrupted Mere Angelique, putting her arms 
round her, and drawing her even closer to herself. 
‘^Yes, my child, we must learn to imitate the 
humility of our dearest Lord. This is essentially 
the spirit of our life ; this is why you will alwa3^s 
see our professed sisters, and even our novices, 
kneeling for a moment when admonished of a fault, 
and even if they think they are not to blame, saying, 

‘ Dear mother, it is my fault.' The world would 
smile at it as childish ; heretics would laugh at it 
as absurd. But what thinks my little Madeleine ? 
Would not Jesus, who was meek and lowly of 
heart, who chose His mother for her humility, and 
has promised to exalt the lowly — would not He 
look with tenderest love on such an action ? This 
was why sister Fiddle knelt at recreation, when re- 
minded of her want of charity, in speaking of 
Stephanie's quickness of temper ; and this is why 
I suspect my little child wishes to tell sister Fidele 
that she is sorry for the pain she gave her this 
morning.” 


422 


IIORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


Madeleine did not answer, but she looked up at 
the young Abbess, and her look told more than 
words. There was unbounded love, unbounded 
truth, in those dark, earnest eyes ; and there was 
something more — there was a calm and holy pur- 
pose in that young heart to leave no means untried 
that would make her become more fit for the life 
to which she aspired. 

The bell rang a few moments after for their even- 
ing meal, but not before Madeleine had seen the 
sister Fidele, and received a long embrace, and 
heard an earnest entreaty to pray for her, as if she 
had been in fault, rather than her young com- 
panion. 

Three or four hours later, and the sisters were 
all at rest. Mere Angelique was uneasy about 
Madeleine. She had coughed a good deal through 
the day, and her usually pale cheek had flushed 
painfully several times. She stole softly with a 
shaded lamp to her little bed. The young pos- 
tulant was sleeping, but her lips moved, and as the 
Abbess bent over her, she could catch the half- 
uttered accents — ‘‘Jesus, meek and humble of heart, 
make my heart like unto Thy Heart; Jesus, most 
obedient, make me — She moved uneasily, and 
an expression of pain passed over her face ; then 
she started suddenly in the bed, and coughed. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


423 


M^re Angelique was afraid of alarming her, and 
had withdrawn behind the curtain. In a moment, 
however, she was beside her; for she heard Made- 
leine’s voice, calling indistinctly, as if for help. Her 
head was laid back on the pillow, but at a glance 
the Abbess saw that something serious was the 
matter. 

“ Madeleine, my darling child, are you ill ? What 
is the matter ? ” 

Madeleine did not reply. She seemed unable to 
speak ; but she laid her hand on her chest, and 
then, making an effort to smile, as if thanking the 
dear and gentle mother, she raised herself in the 
bed, and coughed slightly again ; but now there 
were large red spots on her white handkerchief. 

Mere Angelique was too much accustomed to 
personal attendance on the sick to be much puzzled 
how to act. In a few moments Madeleine appear- 
ed easier ; but the Abbess was determined she 
would move her to her own little room, if possible, 
for the night. As she really needed assistance to 
effect this change, she gently awoke sister Fidele, 
who slept in the next compartment of the dormi- 
tory, and explained what had happened. 

In a few moments the sister was ready, and, to- 
gether, they gently carried Madeleine to the Ab- 
bess’ little room. All was done so quickly and 


424 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


noiselessly that, as M^re Angelique hoped, the other 
sisters were not disturbed. Madeleine was soon 
settled, and sister Fidele begged to remain with her 
through the night ; but the Abbess would not hear 
of it. She seemed to have forgotten her day’s toil, 
and her absolute need of rest. It was in vain that 
sister Fiddle entreated and expostulated. Experi- 
ence told her it would be in vain ; but love blinded 
experience, and she hoped that for this once, 
at least, her mother would yield. With a sad 
heart she retired again to the dormitory, as her 
superior had positively refused to allow her to re- 
main. 

‘‘ At least, dear mother, let me make a fire some- 
where before I leave ; you may want it before 
morning.” 

As if I could not make a fire for myself,” re- 
plied Mere Angelique, laughing. ‘‘ Well, well ; the 
conceit of my nuns ! They imagine no one can do 
anything right but themselves.” 

Sister Fidele knew very well the words were 
said in jest, and to conceal a determination that 
nothing should be done for her which she could 
possibly do for herself. So she could only smile, 
embrace her loved mother once more, and then 
leave her alone for her midnight watch. She lay 
down to rest with a very fervent prayer to her 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


425 


angel guardian that she might waken at the earliest 
dawn, and her prayer was heard. As a neighbor- 
ing clock was chiming four, she awoke, and in a few 
moments was with the invalid. Madeleine seemed 
better, and was sleeping calmly. So, after some 
entreaties, she succeeded in inducing her superior 
to rest for a few hours in her bed, and a broken 
rest it was. 

The religious rose at five, for meditation and 
office. When the signal was given, the sister who 
slept next the compartment of sister Fiddle, noticed 
that she did not move ; and, thinking she had not 
heard the call, came to her bed, and gently shook 
the poor Abbess, who had just fallen into a sound 
sleep — so sound that, but for this untoward circum- 
stance, she might really have enjoyed the rest she 
needed, and would not hav^e heard the sisters leav- 
ing the room. In a moment she was awake, and 
all was explained ; but the sister who had so inad- 
vertently disturbed her could scarcely restrain her 
tears. The health, not to say the life, of their pre- 
cious mother was dearer to them than any earthly 
consideration, and she would sooner have suffered 
a month’s sickness herself than have broken the 
rest of her superior. But the trial was offered to 
Him who had permitted it to happen, and accepted 
by that adorable Heart which has sanctified, by its 


426 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

own tenderness to an earthly mother, our human 
hopes and fears and affections. 

A few hours later the Abbess arose. She looked 
wearied and worn, but she was often so. Her first 
anxiety was for Madeleine, who appeared really 
better ; her next, for sister Fidele, who she knew 
was not very strong, and who she feared might be 
weary from the loss of a part of her usual rest. 

‘'All for our sweet Jesus, my child!'' she whis- 
pered, as she pressed her hand in blessing on her 
head. “ He was wearied and toiled for love of us, 
and we may well toil and be weary, in our little 
measure, for love of Him." 




CHAPTER XXIX. 

“ Obadiah, art thou below?” 

“ Yea, verily, master; by the help of the Almighty.” 

“ Then, sand the sugar, powder the snufF, water the tobacco, and 
come up to prayers ; for, trul)’-, we must wrestle with the Lord for 
these sons of Belial, that they be not consumed in their iniquities.” 
— Old Play. 

HE editor of a morning paper was busily 
employed in his office. His work ap- 
peared to give him great satisfaction, but 
some perplexity. However, despite the trial of sit- 
ting in a close room, facing due south, on the first 
hot day of an oppressively hot summer, his 
equanimity was as remarkable as it was unex- 
pected. His feelings, however, were not recipro- 
cated by his devil,'’ or, if you will, his familiar 
spirit, who lingered outside the door, and had 
knocked more than once on that eventful morning, 
in a manner by no means indicative of a calm or 
happy frame of mind. 

At last the small demon intruded his somewhat 

( 4 ^ 7 ) 




428 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


shaggy head and anything but demoniacal coum 
tenance. 

Please, zir — He never pronouced an s '' in 
his life ; and, having lived in a region of literature, 
considered himself on the summit of Parnassus, and 
above such trifles as the ordinary rules of grammar. 
‘^Please, zir, Tom zays as what he can't wait no 
longer, zir; and if yez doesn’t give him them ’ere 
sheets, the morning’s paper won’t be ready till 
night.” 

Tell Tom to be hanged ! ” exclaimed the editor, 
politely and pleasantly. He was altogether in a 
very lively frame of mind that morning. 

Please, zir, I told him an hour ago, and he zays 
he won’t zir. Hanging’s not respectable for a 
gintlcman of his situation and learnin’.” 

‘‘Take these papers, then, Jim, and have the 
proofs back in less than an hour, sir, or — ” 

The familiar grinned, and vanished with the 
documents, without waiting for the conclusion of 
the editor’s remarks. 

The Morning Slanderer had an immense circula- 
tion. There was not a newspaper in existence with 
such unlimited facility for making the most out- 
rageous and unfounded statements ; with such un- 
blushing effrontery in maintaining them, and with 
such an adamantine determination righteously to 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


429 

observe what we once heard a schoolmaster declare 
to be the eleventh commandment, namely, ‘‘to tell 
a lie and stick to it/’ The Morning Slanderer lived, 
and moved, and breathed, and existed, and, more 
than all, and better than all, made money by calum- 
niating. It was the staple commodity of its 
columns, which would not have been considered 
by any means interesting — in fact, would not have 
“paid,” had not a regular and inviting supply of 
that commodity been furnished to its “constant 
readers.” 

The antecedents of the editor were not known. 
Some people said he had been turned out of the 
Catholic College of Maynooth for gross misconduct ; 
others, that he had been ordained priest by a bishop 
whose charity overbalanced his prudence. But, 
whatever the facts were, Mr. Shields always de- 
clared that he had no relations ; and if specially 
interrogated as to his place of birth or parentage, 
gave such vague replies as to lead you to suppose 
that he desired to convey the impression of having 
“ growed,” like Topsy. 

There were two remarkable features in his char- 
acter — one was his unblushing effrontery ; the 
other, his unmitigated hatred of anything Catholic. 
His work suited him precisely, and he suited it. 
There was no circumstance, however small, out of 


430 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


which an anti-Popery cry could be extracted, or a 
^'Jesuit in disguise” story made, of which he did 
not avail himself to the utmost. 

Sir Timothy Tadpole and Dr. Thundertone were 
the great supporters of his paper. The latter was 
a kindred spirit in many respects. He could tell 
a lie and stick to it,” with an air of injured innocence 
that would lead you to suppose that any one who 
doubted his word on his asseveration must be, in- 
deed, an object of contempt and pity. Sir Timothy 
sometimes demurred when they absolutely refused 
to retract a calumny plainly proved to be such. 
The young man was not yet hardened in the career 
of public falsehood. But, though Dr. Thunder- 
tone, at least would have hesitated before he told 
even a white lie ” in private, in his public capacity 
he had a great duty to perform, and he felt he 
must not hesitate at trifles. 

‘‘ My dear Sir Timothy,” he would reply to the 
mild expostulations of the latter, these Romanists 
are absolutely not to be believed. I say it advised- 
ly, sir, they are not to be believed, on any subject, or 
under any circumstances; and our only safe course 
is, always to maintain what we have said. If we 
once acknowledged that we were wrong, or inserted 
a contradiction of any statement which had appear- 
ed in our paper — our Banner of Truth — our influ- 


BORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


431 


ence would be gone, sir; gone irrecoverably. And 
imagine the triumph it would give to Anti-Christ. 
I have always acted on the same principle, Sir 
Timothy. During my long public career, it has 
frequently happened that I have received letters 
and documents, disproving my assertions, particu- 
larly those regarding the practices of these unfor- 
tunate Romanists, and circumstances which I have 
heard of through Mr. Shields’ indefatigable zeal. 
But, sir, I never reply ; never retract. 1 assume, 
sir, always that they are wrong, and that I am 
right; and I am sure it is the wisest and safest 
course.” 

There was a great sensation in the Evangelical 
world on the morning following the events above 
narrated. Notwithstanding the fears of the shaggy 
Jim, the Slanderer was struck off in time for the 
usual hour of delivery, though the editor did not 
receive his proofs quite so expeditiously as he de- 
sired. There were two paragraphs in the paper 
which we will take the liberty of inserting for the 
benefit of our readers. One was headed '' Matri- 
monial ON BITS,” the other, in larger type. 
Alarming Progress of Popery— Perversion 
OF A Protestant Clergyman and his Family — 
A Young Girl entrapped into a Protestant 
Nunnery.” 


432 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


Mr. Shields' perplexity had arisen simply from 
the fact that he could not make up his mind which 
paragraph should appear most prominent. The 
Matrimonial on dits " would be very interesting, 
very, and he knew he was first with the intelli- 
gence, but it was nothing to the Alarming Pro- 
gress of Popery," and he had facts now which no 
one could contradict. On the whole, however, he 
thought it best to put the matrimony first, and an- 
nounced his pleasure to the familiar by muttering 
through a speaking tube which communicated with 
the printing-office. 

Jim!" 

Yez, zir." 

‘ Matrimonial on dits ' first, and see there are no 
mistakes." 

Cartainly, zir ; all right, zir," replied the small 
demon, communicating the orders to his friend 
Tom, with so much expedition and zeal that he 
almost overset two or three compositors, and had 
his ears boxed for his pains by each in succession. 

‘'Matrimonial on dits. 

“We are sure our readers will have much pleas- 
ure in hearing that a marriage is on the tapis be- 
tween a distinguished — ." When Mr. Shields had 
written so far, he paused. Should he put the 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


433 


Doctor or the Baronet first ? Both were patrons ; 
both distinguished men. Of course, under ordinary 
circumstances, the Baronet should take the prece- 
dence ; but the circumstances were not ordinary ; 
they were very extraordinary. On the whole, the 
editor concluded that of the two, the Doctor was 
the most important, the Baronet the most easily 
propitiated if offence was given ; so he proceeded : 
— '' between a distinguished Divine, long known 
to the Evangelical world as the great supporter of 
truth and opposer of Popery, and a lady of rank 
and fortune, who is completely devoted to the 
great cause, and, of late, has been a frequent visitor 
at Wineger Chapel, Cow Lane. We hear that the 
happy event is likely to take place early in au- 
tumn, as, notwithstanding the noble lady’s recent 
bereavement, family circumstances of a most try- 
ing nature make it imperative that she should have 
a protector, and such a one as the Reverend Divine, 
fitted by long experience to combat the errors of 
Popery, whether they appear openly, as in foreign 
lands, or in the privacy of domestic life through the 
insidious medium of Romanizing parsons or Jesuits 
in disguise. Another matrimonial affair is also 
spoken of, and will, we believe, take place about the 
same time. An honorable Baronet, famous for his 
zeal in presiding, at all risks of personal inconve- 
ig 


434 


HORNE-ITURST RECTOR Y. 


nience, at Anti-Popery and Evangelical Alliance 
Meetings, will shortly lead to the hymeneal altar a 
young lady of high birth, whose parents are distin- 
guished for, etc., etc.'' 

'' Alarming Progress of Popery. 

‘‘We have devoted our lives, our energies, our 
zeal, to warning our readers of the terrific progress 
that Popery is making in our pure reformed Evan- 
gelical Church. We have often met with scorn 
and thanklessness, but we trust our efforts are not 
altogether in vain. It is our privilege now to 
present our readers with a statement of facts which 
cannot be denied, and which we trust will have 
more influence and excite more alarm than any 
words of ours could do. The Rev. Mr. Langdale, 

for ten years rector of parish, has openly 

apostatized from the Church of England ; we say 
openly, because there is not the smallest room to 
doubt, that for several years he has secretly been a 
member of that idolatrous sect. He has adopted 
Popish practices, preached Romish doctrines, edit- 
ed, what he is pleased to call. Catholic works, and 
brought several of his congregation to the very 
verge of spiritual destruction. At length, when 
nothing more is to be gained, he professes himself 
what he really is, and shows plainly what his ob- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


435 


ject has been. Unhappily, as is usual in such 
cases, he falls not alone ; his sister, who has been 
known to the public for some time, as superioress 
of a Protestant Nunnery at Whetholm Green, is 
expected to follow his example, with two curates, 
and many of his congregation. But this is by no 
means the most fearful portion of information. A 
young lady whose father is rector of a large parish 

in the county of , has been enticed by him to 

enter a sisterhood. Her parents are most pious 
and strictly evangelical, and we believe the un- 
fortunate girl never even dreamed of such a course 
until corrupted by the wiles of the Puseyite curate 
of a neighboring parish. Her^ unfortunate father, 
the moment he heard the awful intelligence, fell 
lifeless to the ground, and it is not expected that 
he can survive the shock ; her mother is also dan- 
gerously ill with fever ; but, of course all this is 
nothing to Mr. Langdale, who has gained his end 
with his unhappy victim. We trust these awful dis- 
closures will be a warning to parents, and, indeed, 
to every one, how they tamper with Papist practices. 
Let them watch their ministers narrowly ; they are 
bound in conscience to do so ; and the moment they 
hear a word savoring of the doctrines of Anti- 
Christ, let them fly from the church* where such 
teaching is delivered, and attend the nearest dis- 


436 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

senting chapel, if no Episcopal establishment is 
within convenient distance, sooner than expose 
themselves to the danger of contamination. Let 
them watch their servants, their governesses, their 
tutors ; Jesuits in disguise are prowling everywhere 
through the kingdom ; above all, let them support 
those clergymen, those public institutions, those 
leading journals, those newspapers and magazines, 
by whom the truth is boldly declared and error 
courageously denounced.'' 

For once Mr. Shields' statements were founded 
on fact ; but the additions to the fact made by his 
powerful, or rather his interested, imagination were 
very considerable. 

Miss Langdale had not even heard of her broth- 
er's secession from the established church, when 
the paragraph was printed, and so cleverly were 
matters arranged between Dr. Humbletone and 
Miss Dobbs, that it was several months before she 
knew that he had openly professed himself a Cath- 
olic. 

The Doctor made his appearance at a few 

days after her arrival. She knew he was in the 
house, for the important fact was mysteriously 
whispered amongst the sisters ; but her surprise 
was considerable when a day and night elapsed 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


437 

before she was allowed to have an interview with 
him. She could not help expressing to one of the 
vsisters what she felt at this painful and apparently 
most unnecessary suspense ; but, to her utter 
amazement, she learned that the Doctor often re- 
mained several days in the house without seeing 
any one except Miss Dobbs, and that on this occa- 
sion no one expected to see him. 

But what do you do about confession ?’' en- 
quired Miss Langdale, who had been accustomed 
to such demands on his time for that purpose in 
her establishment, that she really often found it 
impossible to see him alone for the discussion of 
matters absolutely necessary for the well-being of 
the establishment over which she presided. 

‘‘We seldom go,'' replied the sister. “Dearest 
mother does not approve of frequent confessions ; 
she thinks it makes us careless about our faults." 

“ But how often do you call seldom ?" enquired 
Miss Langdale. “ Dr. Humbletone generally comes 
to Whetholm Green every two months ; and I as- 
sure you the sisters do not think his visits at all 
too frequent, and constantly write to him in the 
interval." 

The sister looked surprised, as well she might, 
and replied : “ That is strange, surely ; for we never 
see any clergyman more than once or twice a year, 


438 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


generally about Christmas and Easter, and we are 
never allowed to write to any one, under any cir- 
cumstances ; indeed, it would be of no use if we 
did, for ” — she lowered her voice and looked round 
anxiously — do you know, sister mother,’' (Miss 
Dobbs required Miss Langdale to be addressed by 
this title ; it was peculiar — but many of Miss 
Dobbs’ ideas were peculiar), do you know that we 
believe the Lady Superior knows everything we 
think and do ? I cannot tell how it is ; but I sup- 
pose God allows it for our good — at least, she said 
as much one day, when she was telling me of some- 
thing I had done, which she could not possibly 
have known in an ordinary way.” 

Miss Langdale was about to reply, when the 
door opened suddenly, and Infant Ellen entered. 
“ The Lady Superior says you can see Dr. Humblc- 
tone now, if you wish ; he is in her ante-room. I 
will show you the way there.” 

I wish to see Dr. Humbletone alone !” said 
Miss Langdale, in rather a decided manner, and 
with an enquiring look at the sister. 

Oh, certainly !” replied Ellen. Dearest mother 
is quite unable to leave her room to-day ; but the 
ante-room is quite distinct, and there is even a 
curtain over the door. I forgot,” she continued, 
making an attempt to be very amiable, '' I forgot 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


439 


you were not one of us. We would rather she 
heard all we said at confession ; and, indeed, I be- 
lieve Dr. Humbletone generally tells her after, as 
he always goes back to her room at once ; but it is 
a rule of the Order that we never see any priest 
for confession unless the Lady Superior is in the 
house, and we are not allowed to go to confession 
any where but in the apartment adjoining hers.” 

Miss Langdale had already heard rumors of 
this peculiar arrangement, but she scarcely expect- 
ed it would be enforced on herself. In a few mo- 
ments she was in the room appointed, and after a 
delay of about half an hour. Dr. Humbletone 
emerged from the apartment of the Lady Mother. 
His manner was affectionate, and in a few moments 
she had heard all that he thought it advisable to 
tell her of her brother’s movements. 

Poor Miss Langdale was greatly shocked. She 
expected to hear of Ethel’s death, but she was by 
no means prepared for the effect it produced on 
Mr. Langdale. Dr. Humbletone, too, appeared to 
feel it deeply ; she thought he looked very much 
worn, and even imagined his hair was whiter than 
when she saw him a few weeks before. His great 
object was to induce her to remain at Miss Dobbs’ 
for some time longer ; but this she positively re- 
fused to do, and declared that, unless he made it a 


440 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


matter of obedience for her to remain, she would 
return next day to Whetholm Green. Dr. Hum- 
bletone was seriously disappointed. He had hoped 
Miss Dobbs’ influence would have had more effect, 
and that he would hav^e found Miss Langdale pre- 
pared to resign in her favor, and to become her 
disciple. After some further conversation, in which 
he largely expatiated on the virtues, trials and 
sanctity of his favorite, he left the room abrupt- 
ly, and Miss Langdale, wearied in mind and body, 
retired to the oratory, which was in the opposite 
apartment. 

She scarcely mourned for Ethel, much as she 
loved her, for, with her present views, death seemed 
a relief from perplexity and a life of constant trial. 
She knew nothing of what had passed in her last 
hours, all of which Dr. Humbletone had carefully 
concealed, and thought, from his account, that she 
had died as she lived, in the full belief that the 
Anglican establishment was a branch of the Holy 
Catholic Church. Nor was she much better in- 
formed regarding her brother’s movements. His 
mind was very much unsettled the Doctor said — a 
decided lapsus linguce, for his mind had never been 
so really settled before — and it would probably be 
some time before he would be himself again ; he 
feared Mr. Langdale might take some rash, impru- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


441 


dent step, which, doubtless, he would hereafter 
heartily regret ; on the whole, he thought it best 
for him to resign his cure of souls and go abroad 
for a time ; perhaps, on his return, he might be 
calmer, and see things in a different light. But 
mother Elizabeth must be prepared to hear strange 
reports ; perhaps even that her brother had gone 
over to Rome ; of course, she would not believe 
it if she did, unless assured of it by Dr. Humble- 
tone himself. 

Miss Langdale’s heart was indeed heavy and full 
of care. Her greatest trial seemed to come from 
the very quarter where she would naturally have 
expected help and guidance. What would she not 
have given for some one to advise, some one to 
counsel, some one to whom she could even impart 
her anxieties, and thus lessen their heavy weight. 
But she was under an iron rule. There is no tyr- 
anny so oppressive as that of a self-constituted 
tyrant, and though Miss Langdale was far from 
being aware of why she was so unhappy in her 
choice of life and of a spiritual guide, she could 
not but see that, had she been under a less arbi- 
trary power her trials would be sensibly dimin- 
ished. With light enough to see the heavenly 
beauty of obedience, and fervor enough to desire 
to imitate in all things Him who was obedient 
16^' 


442 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


even unto death, she chose a guide for herself 
whom she believed to be a successor of those who, 
by obeying the first call of their Incarnate God, 
merited to be the founders of His church. Her 
motive was pure and holy, and it may be the suf- 
fering she endured in endeavoring to practise a 
sublime perfection without the sacramental grace 
which alone can enable a soul to live a superna- 
tural life, was accepted by God, and became a 
means to lead her to that which she so earnestly, 
though unwittingly, desired. 

At a late hour in the evening Miss Dobbs sent a 
message desiring she would come to her apart- 
ment. But Miss Langdale felt totally unfit for an 
interview with her, and declined on the plea of a 
severe headache. It was the first time the lady 
mother had met with such a refusal, and it was 
never forgotten or forgiven. 

The next morning Miss Langdale returned to 
Whetholm Green. Dr. Humbletone had written to 
the sister who was left in charge during her ab- 
sence, and explained as much regarding Mr. Lang- 
dale as he deemed advisable, adding that he would 
himself visit them in a few days, and desiring posi- 
tively that they should neither receive visitors, nor 
write or read any letters until then. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


Then haste thee, time — ’tis kindness all 
That speeds thy winged feet so fast.” 

— Bryant. 



|E have said that the editor of the Daily 
Slanderer for once made statements found- 
I ed on fact. Lady Rossmore was really^ 
engaged to Dr. Thundertone, and intended matri- 
mony as soon as a moderately deceint respect to 
her late lord would permit. The Doctor was anx- 
ious that the interesting event should take place in 
August, as he had promised to attend several meet- 
ings of the Evangelical Alliance which were to take 
place abroad during that month, and he felt that 
a titled wife, though, neither very young nor very 
beautiful, would add considerably to the t^clat 
which he flattered himself always accompanied his 
appearance in public. 

Lady Rossmore found herself possessed with a 
sudden and very unaccountable anxiety to go on 
the continent, and really wondered she had never 

( 443 ) 


444 


HORNE HURST RECTOR Y. 


travelled before ; she was sure it would restore her 
health, always so delicate ; if she had had any friend 
to take an interest in her sooner, and advise her to 
tr}^ such a complete change of air, she was sure she 
would not be the wreck of former beauty, the frail, 
shattered creature she now was ; but no one ever 
cared for her, and as for poor, dear Lord Rossmore, 
he was quite wrapped up in his books, and in 
Katie, whom he had spoiled completely ; indeed, 
her advice was never listened to for a moment, or 
she was sure her poor, dear husband’' — her ladyship 
paused in her soliloquy. Perhaps, after all, it was 
as well for him he was gone; he never was fit for 
the world ; if he had been like Dr. Thundertone — 
but then she never met a man like him, he really 
was a man. He was worthy of her, and she con- 
fided her opinion in the strictest confidence to her 
very particular friend, Mrs. Hellier, who, in nar- 
rating the conversation to her daughter some hours 
after, declared oracularly, that Lady Rossmore had 
got her match at last, and she wished her joy of her 
bargain. Mrs. Hellier was in high spirits that day, 
and not inclined to be severe on any one, or she 
might have said more. 

Helena Hellier was to be married in July. Her 
mother had long spei^ulated in the matrimonial 
market, and had succeeded when and where she 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


445 


least expected. Sir Timothy was flattered by her 
compliments, and dazzled by her pretensions, until 
at last he became so charmed with the mother that 
he surrendered at discretion to the daughter. 
Like the judicious Hooker, he requested his friend 
to provide him with a help-mate for life ; and it was 
Avell for him that Helena Hellier proved a more 
amiable partner than Joan Churchill. Without 
sufficient strength of mind to resist her mother’s 
ambitious views, and pleased at the prospect of a 
title and an advanded position in society as a bar- 
onet’s wife, she gave her hand without her heart, 
and paid the usual debt of domestic misery for her 
imprudence. Sir Timothy was naturally kind- 
hearted, and therefore she did not experience any 
very serious domestic trials, and, as her mind was 
far the stronger of the two, she could have gov- 
erned him at will, had it been her pleasure to do 
so ; but she had sold the birthright of superior in- 
tellect and spiritual attraction for a mess of pottage ; 
she felt degraded, and lacked the energy to rouse 
herself from the degradation into which she had 
fallen. Her life was not a happy one, for no woman 
can be happy who marries below the level of her 
own intellectual powers. But there is no error 
which cannot be retrieved if time be granted for 
the work of amendment this side of the grave ; and 


446 


HORNE-HURSr RECTOR Y, 


Helena’s life might have been very different if she 
had known more of the true value of suffering, and 
of the sweet '' uses of adversity.^’ 

Miss Rossmore’s position was more than usually 
perplexing to Dr. Humbletone. Home seemed a 
a very unfit place for her, and indeed the constan 
visits of Dr. Thundertone made it almost intolera- 
ble. She had never liked that gentleman, and the 
prospect of the position he was so soon to assume 
in her mother’s family increased her dislike to pos- 
itive aversion. Mrs. Burke had earnestly requested 
her to visit Dublin, and to remain with her until 
her marriage, which it was hoped might soon take 
place. Edward Helmore had written that there 
was a prospect of his regiment being ordered back 
to England, as it had suffered so severely in late 
engagements as to need a considerable augmen- 
tation of numbers. In this case there would be no 
difficulty about their immediate union, as Mrs. 
Burke generously offered an ample income for the 
young people’s support. On the whole, therefore, 
Katie agreed to her grandmamma’s proposal ; in- 
deed, her only hesitation in accepting it had been 
fear lest her own change of religious opinion should 
be a source of trial to her beloved relative, and 
a doubt whether she could be happy in Ireland 
without the daily servdce and other spiritual con- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


447 

solations to which she had been accustomed of 
late. 

Gertrude Helmore had written to Mr. Mor- 
daunt as she promised. She told him all that had 
passed ; she concealed none of her sufferings ; nor 
did she even deny that her love for him was only 
deepened by them. 

‘‘ I made a resolution to obey whatever your 
uncle might direct, and to hear his decision as the 
voice of God ; and Henry, I dare not falter. He 
says I am called to a higher and holier life than 
that which I once, which I so lately contemplated. 
It may be, nay it must be, that he is right. He tells 
me that a sister’s life should be the happiest of all ; 
and I can well believe it, if they, of their own free 
will, and unconstrained by adverse circumstances, 
devote themselves to God, and to His holy work ; 
but this is not my case, and my life henceforth 
must be one long sorrow. Still, I will do my best. 
I will try to forget the past, to live in the present 
and for the future. But my father and mother, oh, 
my God ! I dare not think of them. Who will com- 
fort them ? Who will help them to bear a trial which 
will wring their very inmost hearts? As yet they 
know nothing of it, for Dr. Humblctone has posi- 
tively forbidden me to write to them until I am in 
the sisterhood. He says it is better so, for if they 


44 ^ 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


forbid me to go, I could not be received without 
public scandal ; but he thinks if I am really there, 
that they will scarcely insist on my returning home. 
Oh, Henry, pray for me ! I am very, very miser- 
able, but what can I do ? Still, it is better to be 
miserable alone, than to bring suffering on others, 
and yet even this I must do. I am to leave Lady 
Rossmore's to-morrow. Miss Rossmore will travel 
with me as far as Bath. She is going to Ireland, 
and wdll probably remain there wdth her grand- 
mamma until her marriage. Doctor Humbletone 
has advised me to remain a few days with a rela- 
tive of his who lives near Box, and to go from 
thence to Whetholm Green ; it would be scarcely 
possible for me to go direct from Lady Rossmore’s. 
All this is very painful ; the people to whom I am 
going are perfect strangers to me ; but your uncle 
says he will meet me there, if possible. He is very 
kind, Henry ; too kind to one so unworthy. Oh, 
my beloved, pray for me, pray for me ! My heart 
will break ; it must break. And oh, my God ! my 
poor, poor father! Henry, you know I was his 
favorite child ; how will he bear this trial ? and I 
cannot even ask you to comfort him. It is long 
past midnight, and Katie has just come into my 
room, and says I must go to bed at once. Oh, 
Henr}^ Henry ! truly the way to Heaven is straight 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


449 


and narrow, and full of bitter anguish. How can 
I finish my last letter to you ! May God help and 
comfort you ! Gertrude Helmore.” 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

“ For having all things, and not Thee, what have I? 

Not having Thee, what have my labors got ? 

Let me enjoy but Thee, what further crave I ? 

And having Thee alone, what have I not T — Quarles. 

T was late in the evening when Gertrude 
arrived at Mrs. Lyster's. She was cor- 
dially and affectionately received, and 
found to her great relief that Dr. Humbletone had 
arrived a few hours before her. The house was an 
old one, and had long been the residence of the 
Lyster family, but though Gertrude had always 
been an admirer of antiquity, in the present in- 
stance what would once have excited all her en- 
thusiam only added to her depression. Pleading 
the weariness of her journey, she retired early to 
rest. Dr. Humbletone promised to see her the 
next morning for confession, and advised her to 



450 


HORNE-BURST RECTORY, 


continue her journey immediately after, as he saw 
she was very unfit for society, and probably could 
not bear her present state of painful suspense much 
longer. 

The parish church was on the Lyster estate, 
and as they appointed the rector and kept the key, 
Dr. Humbletone was free to act as he pleased. 
There were daily prayers at eight, which, however, 
were seldom attended by any one but a few old 
women pensioners of the family, nor was the con- 
gregation large even on Sundays. The clergyman 
was too High Church to be popular, and the neigh- 
boring town of Bath afforded more attractive ser- 
vices in the Evangelical chapels and Dissenting 
meeting-houses. 

It was a humiliating trial to Colonel Lyster, who 
was lord of the soil for many broad acres round 
Lyster Hall, but he consoled himself with the re- 
flection that his views were too spiritual for the 
lower orders, and his ecclesiastical polity above 
their ordinary powers of appreciation. 

Punctually as the church clock struck seven, 
Gertrude was standing at the door. Dr. Humble- 
tone had not yet arrived, and she had time to ad- 
mire the beauty of the scene that lay before her. 
In the distance she could discern the towers of the 
abbey, and the spires of several churches, while the 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


451 


great town, with its almost inaccessible terraces 
and steep streets, looked more attractive in the 
morning light and when viewed from afar, than 
when a nearer approach showed the dullness of 
its once white walls, and the dust of its once care- 
fully watered pavement. But that which was 
around was the more beautiful and the more at- 
tractive. There was life, busy, restless life in the 
scene beyond. Hundreds of human hearts, per- 
haps hoping their last hope, and fearing their last 
fear; and where there was life it seemed to her 
there must be sorrow, terrible and dark and rest- 
less sorrow, and she pitied that great multitude 
with a pity gendered in her own griefs, and tinged 
with her own soul anguish. No, she could not 
bear to look where there Avas life, for life still spoke 
of pain, and pain to her was simply an evil. It must 
be borne patiently because God sent it ; as far as 
might be, even uncomplainingly, because it was 
His will, because the creature must submit to the 
will of His Creator ; there might be some love in it, 
too, perhaps, but it was rather the love of dry faith 
than the love of holy confidence. Yes, human life, 
wherever it might be, was one great sorrow, only 
varying in its degree and in its kind — oppressive, 
almost intolerable ; and why? She could “take it 
on trust,” too, for a little while ; but it was a cold 


452 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


trust, and a sorrowful trust. Alas ! for those who 
live and die wandering in darkness and tears, when 
light and joy is hourly within their reach. 

A squirrel bounded gaily across an opening in 
the copse which lay in front of the church ; it shook 
down a shower of spray and maythorn from a tree ; 
the sunlight sparkled on them as they fell. There 
was joyousness here at least, but beyond there was 
the dark, peculiar shadow on the ground from the 
tall trees which is only seen at early morning. 
Gertrude saw it all and murmured to herself — 

“ Why shines the sun except to make 
Gloomy nooks for grief to hide, 

And darker shades for melancholy, 

When all the earth is bright beside?’* 

You look very sad this morning, my child,’' said. 
Dr. Humbletone, who had approached the church 
by a back way. He could not but be struck with 
her care-worn face the moment he saw it. 

Gertrude sighed heavily and large tears gathered 
in her eyes. Oh, my poor father !” she exclaimed, 
and burst into an agony of tears. 

‘ Whosoever loveth father or mother more than 
me, is not worthy of me,’” replied Dr. Humble- 
tone, solemnly, as he unlocked the church door. 

Ah, Gertrude ! it is true. Courage and patience. 
Perhaps what you are suffering now for conscience 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


453 


sake will help to obtain for you and for them a 
grace worth a life-time of agony. Go on blindly, and 
if you are sincere before God, He will lead you 
into all truth, though He may use those to guide 
you to it who for their pride dr their willfulness, 
may never see its light. 

The confession was soon over, for Gertrude felt 
perfectly unable to speak, and, indeed, had very 
little to say. Dr. Humbletone had desired her to 
kneel at the rails of the communion table, and after 
locking the door, had seated himself on a chair in- 
side. If he had been nearer to her she could 
have got on better, but the sound of her own 
voice in the large empty church almost terrified 
her, and it seemed altogether so strange, so un- 
natural. 

In a few hours she was on her way back to Lon- 
don. She had never travelled alone before, and she 
felt it a most painful trial to be obliged to do so 
now. How much had happened in the last few 
days ! She had taken a step that was absolute, irre- 
trievable, and she must bear the consequences'what- 
ever they might be. She thought of Katie, of Mr. 
Mordaunt, of home, until her very brain reeled ; 
and then the loneliness, the utter loneliness ; she was 
with strangers, she was going to strangers, and her 
future lot must be cast with those to whom she had 


454 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


no tie of kindred or affection ; and yet on their char- 
ity she must depend for support. Now she almost 
resolved to return at once to her father's, to remain 
at home unmarried, to tell them all that had 
passed, and to trust to their love for forgiveness. 
And then she remembered Dr. Humbletone’s 
terrible words ; surely that would be loving them 
more than Christ. She strove to conceal her agita- 
tion by keeping down her veil, and it was well 
for her that the anxiety of her travelling com- 
panions for their own comfort or convenience pre- 
vented them from noticing a stranger. But each- 
arrival or departure from a station was a fresh pain 
to Gertrude, and made her feel her isolated position 
more acutely ; every one except herself seemed to 
have a relative or friend to care for them, to see 
that they were comfortable, to look after their 
luggage. It made her loneliness tenfold more 
lonely as she heard the kind word, the anxious 
inquiry, or saw the thoughtful glance, the ready 
offer of assistance. 

She had breakfasted early and had scarcely tasted 
her morning meal. Mrs. Lyster had thoughtfully 
provided her with some refreshment, but her sor- 
row had made her completely forget the necessity 
of partaking of it. Suddenly she became so faint 
as to be unable to support herself upright, and 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


455 


without warning or premeditation, fell helplessly on 
the shoulder of an elderly lady who had entered 
the carriage at the last station. Her first moment 
of consciousness made her aware that the gentlest 
of hands were around her for support, and the 
kindest of voices was entreating her to take at 
least a mouthful of wine. 

Indeed I am so sorry ; I beg your pardon !” ex- 
claimed Gertrude, trying to rouse herself. 

My dear young lady, you must not speak yet. 
Wait until you are better; but even then I could 
not listen to apologies for an accident you could not 
prevent.'’ 

Gertrude smiled her thanks ; but with an expres- 
sion of such crushing depression in her young and 
beautiful face, that the lady could scarcely restrain 
her tears. 

Poor thing !” she murmured ; what can have 
brought such a look of wretchedness on her face ; 
and she is not in mourning either?” 

In a few moments Gertrude had recovered her- 
self. Her position was in every respect most un- 
pleasant as she found herself an object of general 
attraction, at a time when she particularly wished 
to escape observation. Her evident embarrassment 
did not escape the notice of the lady who had acted 
so kindly towards her, and a very natural curiosity 


456 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

arose as to the circumstances and destination of the 
young traveller. 

Dr. Humbletone had cautioned Gertrude strongly 
to avoid any conversation with strangers. But his 
warning was scarcely necessary, for she felt herself 
that if her destination was even suspected, it might 
lead to very unpleasant consequences. 

In the bustle attendant on the arrival of the train 
at the Paddington station, she managed to escape 
unnoticed, and having secured the services of a 
porter who seemed to pity her unprotected po- 
sition, she soon found herself in a cab, and driving 
rapidly through the busy streets of London. She 
was thankful that it was still daylight, and that she 
would probably reach her destination before even- 
ing closed in. Another trial awaited her in the 
bustle of another station, and the necessity of get- 
ting a ticket for herself and seeing to her luggage ; 
but this was soon over. She little knew what anx- 
ious search had been made for her at the terminus 
of the Great Western by her kind-hearted travel- 
ling companion, who, in spite of Gertrude's reserve, 
and the almost cold manner she showed when she 
found the lady wished to know something of her 
destination, had determined that she would at least 
see her safe in charge of her friends, if she had any, 
or if not, offer herself to accompan}^ her home. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


4S7 


Gertrude was naturally warm-hearted and grate- 
ful, and it cost her more than Mrs. Meade had 
suspected to appear thankless and cold to one who 
had shown her kindness ; it was a bitter addition 
to a cup of sorrow which had already seemed as if 
it could contain no more. 

The town of Chelmsford is about forty miles 
from London. Here the Sisters had taken two 
houses, which they were to occupy until the estab- 
lishment, which was building for them on Whet- 
holm Green, should be completed. 

The houses were in a respectable street, and not 
far from the church where Mr. Slingsby minis- 
tered. It was with no little trepidation that Ger- 
trude saw the cab-man draw up at the door. In a 
moment she had alighted and rung. It was opened 
cautiously and slowly, and onl}^ sufficient room to 
admit her given. A sister contrived to remain 
concealed behind the door, and then saying, in a 
low voice, I suppose you are Miss Helmore,’* 
motioned to her to follow where she led. A girl in 
a peculiar dress had appeared in the meantime, and 
was assisting the cab-man to bring her trunk and 
parcels. Gertrude followed the sister up two 
flights of stairs, and was then shown into a sleep- 
ing-room, plainly furnished, which, from the noise, 
appeared to look out on the street, but, as the win- 
20 


458 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


dows were muffled almost to the top, it was impos- 
sible to make any observation from them. . 

‘‘ I will tell mother you are come,” said the sister, 
in the same low tone ; and then, embracing Ger- 
trude in a cold, constrained manner, she withdrew. 

In about half an hour Miss Langdale entered 
the apartment. She had lately returned from her 
very trying visit to Miss Dobbs' establishment, 
and was looking ill both in body and mind. She 
welcomed Gertrude warmly and affectionately ; 
but there was an embarrassment about her manner 
which was extremely painful to her. She seemed 
anxious to shorten the interview, and to say as little 
as could be said while it lasted. Gertrude was 
bitterly disappointed. She had positively declined 
going to Miss Dobbs' establishment, as, from 
what Catherine Rossmore had gathered from Ethel 
and other High Church friends, she feared she 
would not be happy there. Dr. Humbletone had 
reluctantly consented to her joining the sisters 
under Miss Langdale’s care, as he feared to press 
his wishes too much, lest she should altogether 
refuse to become a sister. But now the step was 
taken she feared with some self-will, and perhaps 
she would rue the consequences in a manner she 
had not anticipated. Her idea of a convent was 
something more genial and cheerful than is usual 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


459 

with those who are not Catholics, and she was both 
perplexed and distressed to find coldness and mys- 
tery all around. Affection she had at least ex- 
pected, and some show of real sisterly love ; but 
it was not so, and her heart withered up more and 
more, and sank into itself in morbid gloom. 

Gertrude was left alone for the remainder of the 
evening. A young girl, whom she afterwards 
learned was one of the elder ophans under the 
charge of those ladies, brought her some tea, but 
she sent it away almost untasted. For several days 
she remained in the same room, alone and unoccu- 
pied. Miss Langdale came to her for a short time 
once or twice a day, but pleaded .incessant and 
harassing occupation as a reason for not seeing 
more of the new sister ; another lady came also, 
but only once, and her manner was even more 
constrained than those she had seen before. Once 
or twice she was taken to morning prayers at the 
neighboring church, a singularly cold, unecclesias- 
tical building ; but as the sisters walked in silence, 
she had no opportunity of making their acquain- 
tance. 

Almost a week elapsed before she was allowed 
to join them ; but the change did not contribute 
much to her happiness. She now became aware 
that she had been in retreat since her entrance ; 


46 d 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


but as she had not been informed of that fact be- 
fore, and had not the most remote idea what a 
retreat was, her impression of it, judging from 
what she now supposed it to be, was anything but 
agreeable. Solitary musing on her own trials, 
mistrust of the present, dread of the future, and 
such pious reflections as a cross without a crucifix 
and a few religious pictures could inspire, were the 
component parts thereof. It was her first attempt, 
and she resolved it would be her last ; indeed, so 
painful was the impression it left on her mind, that 
in after years, even when she knew what a spiritual 
retreat really was, and could value it truly, she 
still had an instinctive dread of the very name. 




CHAPTER XXXII. 

O Land ! O Land ! 

For all the broken-hearted, 

The mildest herald by our fate allotted, 

Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand, 

To lead us with a gentle hand 
Into the land of the great Departed, 

Into the Silent Land.” — Longfellow. 

YEAR had passed away, and the may- 
thorn flowers were blooming again at 
Horne-hurst parsonage. The Helmores 
were all in deep mourning. Mr. Helmore sat in the 
window of the breakfast-room ; the casement was 
open ; he liked to have it so ; and he sat there for 
hours, looking out vacantly and dreamily on the 
bright scene before him. Suddenly he turned 
round ; Mrs. Helmore was near him ; she never 
left him now ; but the constant confinement, the 
anxiety, the grief, had left deep, unmistakable 
traces on her once beautiful countenance. 

“ But, Gertrude, my dear ; where is Gertrude ? 
And Edward, I have not seen him this long time, 

(461) 



462 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

Mrs. Helmore. I thought, I thought,'’ and the old 
man pressed his hand to his brow. It’s gone 
now,” he said, mournfully ; ^^gone ! gone !” 

Yes. The old man was not so far astray in his 
wanderings. Edward was gone ; and Gertrude 
had not been seen in Horne-hurst parsonage for a 
weary year and more. 

Mrs. Helmore !” 

His wife was beside him in a moment. 

Where is Edward, my dear?” He looked up 
into her face with something so like the intelligence 
of former days, that for a moment she thought his 
intellectual powers were returning. Wisely deter- 
mining to seize, the apparent interval of reason, 
she strove, by a calm, steadfast glance, to retain 
his eye, and then she replied slowly and distinctly : 

God has taken Edward to himself. Edward is 
dead.” 

My bo}' ! my noble boy ! But what has this 
been — have I been dreaming — am I ill?” 

You have been ill a long time, nearly a twelve- 
month.” 

And Edward ?” he replied, as if striving to 
connect some broken link of memory. 

‘‘ Edward has been dead nine months. It was 
last August — Mrs. Helmore paused ; she saw 
reason was returning slowly, and it appeared effec- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


463 

tually. She waited for it — or, rather, gently helped 
it to gain its ascendancy once more ; but she was 
cautious in her speech ; a word too many might 
darken forever the dawning light. A long pause 
followed, and in tearful, prayerful silence she waited 
and watched. Mr. Helmore spoke again : 

It is morning now ?” he said, inquiringly. 

Mrs. Helmore assented. 

And the post,’' he continued ; are there no 
letters ?” 

Yes, there were letters ; and there was one from 
Gertrude. It was brief and coldly written, and 
her mother’s very heart ached as she read it. 

And they call this religion !” exclaimed Mrs. 
Helmore, indignantly, as she laid the note on the 
table. A parent’s heart is broken, and a child’s 
love is crushed and turned from its natural and 
rightful source, and this they say is to do God ser- 
vice !” There was a bitterness in her tone that 
contrasted strangely with the sweet expression of 
her face — a bitterness that told of more than com- 
mon anguish. She looked at her husband again. 
All that she saw gave her hope that his mind had 
once more recovered its balance ; but the physi- 
cian had told her that the return of intellect would 
probably only presage the approach of death. An 
unnatural strength had supported him since the 


464 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


fearful attack which had prostrated both his mental 
and bodily powers ; but now he seemed as weak 
as an infant^ and unable to make the slightest exer- 
tion. By degrees his mind recovered its usual 
tone, and he was able to converse calmly of the 
past. He knew his end was near, and his one 
desire was to see his absent child. It was difficult 
to make him understand her position. He thought 
she was a Catholic, and raved against Popery 
sometimes until Mrs. Helmore feared his reason 
would again lose its balance. It was hard to make 
him understand that he had been deprived of his 
child in a Protestant country, and by the members 
of a Protestant church. 

Then he would remember the sceurs de la charitd 
whom he had seen in France. They could visit 
the sick ; they could attend their parents, if they 
were seriously ill ; and if these people wanted to 
be Catholics, why did they not act like them ? He 
remembered he had often heard, when on the Con- 
tinent, that no one would be received in a convent 
without the consent of their parents, and he had 
never given his consent for Gertrude to leave 
him. 

But the feeling against Catholics, almost natural 
to a Protestant, again asserted its sway, and he 
would declaim against them as loudly, and blame 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 465 

Popery for all his misfortunes, as if he had not 
already declared that these Puseyites were worse 
and more inhuman than any Papist. 

A few days of hoping and fearing passed anxious- 
ly away. Several letters had been written to Ger- 
trude, imploring her to return to Horne-hurst Rec- 
tory, if only for a few hours ; but she never received 
them. It was not Miss Langdale’s custom to keep 
letters from the sisters ; indeed, she knew that 
they would not submit to such an arbitrary exercise 
of authority ; but she persuaded herself that it was 
a duty in this case, and she was anxious to practise 
Miss Dobbs* mode of government with any one 
who she thought could bear it — not from a natu- 
ral love of tyranny, or any idea that it was more 
Catholic, but simply because it saved so much that 
was personally annoying, where it could be exer- 
cised. 

Mrs. Helmore felt Gertrude*s apparent unkindness 
most acutely. Little did she know how much more 
her child suffered than herself. The mother lived 
and died in the calm unconsciousness of invincible 
ignorance. There was no soul anguish, no fearful 
misgivings, no blank dismay, no doubt of the past, 
no trembling fear of the future. All was still and 
dark as a lake unruffled by the summer breeze, and 
locked in by barren mountains whose cold shadows 
20* 


466 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


fall heavily on its unrippled surface. There v^as 
something of trust and something of love ; but the 
trust and the love were vague and undefined, and 
satisfied only because the waters were seldom 
stirred ; and the world, outside the mountains of 
prejudice, early impression and habitual belief, was 
unexplored and unimagined. There was a great 
calm spiritually ; and, therefore, there was' little 
spiritual suffering. The temporal was the tangible ; 
and, therefore, it was realized, and made itself felt. 
But its connection with that which shall be was 
scarcely perceived, and therefore it could not be 
influenced by the hopes or fears of final recom- 
pense, proportioned to its patient endurance or 
holy use. 

It was not so with Gertrude. • Light was dawn- 
ing on her soul, which made the surrounding dark- 
ness intolerably painful ; and yet even the very 
light appeared to produce confusion and perplexit}^, 
for her mental vision was dazzled by its brightness, 
and unable plainly to distinguish that which it reveal- 
ed. An intense longing for something undefined and 
inexplicable ; a pining, yearning cry for a land far 
away ; a desire to belong all to God, with misgiv- 
ings that she was not in the way to Him ; a vague 
idea, scarcely acknowledged, that all was not right 
in doctrine or^practice ; with an intense dread lest 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


467 


Rome might be her final goal, her true mother, in 
whose arms she might find support — in whose fold 
she might find peace and repose. Such were her 
trials, and they only who have suffered them can 
estimate their bitterness. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

“ The hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, 

And the days are dark and dreary.” — Longfellow, 

T was evening, and the last rays of the 
setting sun fell faintly on the casement- 
windowed room at Horne-hurst Rectory. 
Mr. Helmore’s chair was there, just in its usual 
place, but he had never occupied it since the event- 
ful morning on which his reason had returned. 

Charlie had come home from London, where he 
had been staying for the last six months, doubtful 
in his choice of a profession and painfully unsettled 
in his religious belief. He was sitting in the break- 
fast-room, speaking in a low tone to Mary and 
Alice. They were but little changed. 

Ahce was taller, but she had the same dignified. 



468 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


unchildlike manner. Mary looked as if she had 
some other anxiety on her mind than that which 
was shared by her brother and sister. 

“ I could not see her, Alice,” said Charlie, in re- 
ply to some question of his sister. I did all in my 
power, I assure you ; but, perhaps, she was not 
aware then how ill my father was. Surely she will 
come to-night.” 

A loud ring at the hall-door and the noise of car- 
riage-wheels was heard at this moment. 

‘‘ It must be Gertrude ! ” exclaimed Charlie, start- 
ing up hastily ; but in a moment he resumed his 
seat again. ‘‘ I cannot go, Mary. Who will tell 
her?” 

A moment more, and Gertrude had entered the 
room. The brother and sisters embraced, but no 
word was spoken. There was a strange, unnatural 
embarrassment over them all. At last, Mary said : 

I will go for mamma, Gertrude. She is ” 

Gertrude held her back. 

Mary, tell me first — is he alive ? ” 

There was a world of anguish in her words. 

Speak ! ” she said, almost sternly, as Mary hesi- 
tated to reply. An3Thing is better than sus- 
pense.” 

But Mary’s words were scarcely heard. Her 
look told it all. And Gertrude fell heavily on the 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


469 

ground. She had not raised her thick veil since 
she came into the room, and as Mary gently put it 
back to give her air, she was shocked beyond ex- 
pression to see the alteration that one short year 
had made in her sister’s face. In a few moments 
she had recovered, and begged they would take 
her to her room, and leave her there alone for a 
time before she saw her mother. 

Mrs. Helmore had not heard of the arrival, and 
Mary thought it best to comply with her sister’s 
wish. In half-an-hour she came again. Gertrude 
was kneeling, and did not hear her return until 
Mary gently laid her hand on her shoulder. She 
was pained at the startled, nervous way in which 
her sister looked up, and saw that she hastily con- 
cealed the book she had been using. ‘‘ Mamma 
is coming now, Gertrude ; she knows you are 
here.” 

In a moment the mother and child were alone 
together. For some time neither spoke. Gertrude 
appeared anxious to conceal every trace of emotion, 
and Mrs. Helmore felt too bitterly to utter a word. 
It w’as no time for reproach. 

Did you receive our letters, Gertrude ? ” she 
inquired, as soon as she could command herself 
sufficiently to speak. 

It was a direct question, and Gertrude had been 


470 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


charged to be cautious and reserved in all her 
communications. That morning Miss Langdale 
had called her to her room, and given her the let- 
ters which had come during the last few days, 
while, as gently and lovingly as she could, she 
broke to her the fearful intelligence which had ar- 
rived that morning — her father was speechless, and 
probably would be a corpse before she could reach 
home. 

Gertrude answered evasively. Poor girl ! she 
had had practice enough in caution and secrecy 
— in mystery of words and manner — to have made 
her more skillful in dissimulation, but it was some- 
thing new to practise reserve and coldness toward 
a bereaved and idolized mother. 

A few days satisfied Mrs. Helmore that it was 
better to allow Gertrude to return to Whetholm. 
Her heart evidently was there, and she had become 
a stranger in her father’s house. They little knew 
what agony it cost her to look cold and indifferent ; 
they little knew the mental torture she endured as 
she restrained the loving word — as she appeared 
insensible to the loving embrace. 

It will break mamma’s heart, Gertrude, if you 
remain here ! ” exclaimed Charlie, indignantly. 

You had better return to your new friends.” 

Had Charlie seen Gertrude alone in her room a 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


471 

few minutes after, he would have cut his hand off 
sooner than have uttered the words. 

Again the long, lonely journey was gone through. 
Again the bitterness was endured of seeing others 
cared for and protected, and being herself unnoticed 
and unloved. Truly, the way of the wanderer is a 
way of sorrow and of anguish, while the keenest 
sorrows of the lambs of God’s own fold are full of 
peace and the certainty that unerring love exacts 
no more than it has already borne. 

But changes had taken place at Whetholm Green 
that Gertrude was not prepared for. The very 
day she left for home, Mr. Langdale had arrived 
there, and, after considerable difficulty, saw his 
sister alone. Then, and not until then, did she hear 
the deceptions — for such only could they be called 
— which had been practised on her. Several hours 
passed, and she was unconscious of the lapse of 
time, so deeply, so painfully interesting was their 
interview. 

He spoke of Ethel’s death, and the agony it had 
cost him to refuse her dying request ; he told her 
how, for several 3^ears, he had stifled the strong 
conviction which told him that the so-called church 
of his baptism was not the Church of Christ ; he 
related calmly and clearly his late anxious investi- 
gations of the claims of the Romish Church, and his 


^72 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


firm conviction that it was the one true fold, whose 
unity had never been broken, and whose faith had 
never changed. And now, Ellen, there remains 
only one more step for me, and that is, openly and 
publicly to declare my belief, and proclaim that I 
am a member of the Holy Catholic Church.’' 

He paused for a moment, overcome by his emo- 
tion and the excessive agitation of his sister’s man- 
ner. Her position was, indeed, a trying one. She, 
too, had her doubts ; for what Puseyite is there ^ 
who, at some time or other, has not struggled with 
or against the light of faith. Hers were instincts 
and misgivings, the result of a real, earnest desire 
to know and do God’s holy will, and of a steady 
conscientious effort to practise to the letter, step 
by step, each new truth that dawned on her soul. 
But in her brother’s case there was the advantage 
of an acquaintance with facts, unknown to her, but 
which materially assisted him in his decision. 

She received her creed from Dr. Humbletone, 
and had no means of ascertaining how far his 
opinions were his own, or borrowed from other 
sources. He had adapted books, suggested devo- 
tions, and introduced practices of piety; but how 
much or how little of these were original, she had 
no means of ascertaining. She was positively for- 
bidden by him to open any book written by a Ca- 


/ 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


473 


tholic without his special permission, and he had 
placed on his Index Expurgatorius some works 
which she naturally was most anxious to examine. 
Mr. Langdale’s position and classical education 
had given him an immense advantage over his sis- 
ter. He possessed originals of the adapted works, 
and could estimate the value of the corrections or 
omissions. He was fully aware of the close simi- 
larity between the Book of Common Prayer and 
the Roman Missal, and knew that the Sarum 
Use,’’ the great pride and treasure of the Anglican 
party, was as Popish as the Roman Breviary. But 
there is something more than knowledge required 
where there is question of the supernatural gift of 
faith. 

Dr. Humbletone knew as much, and, perhaps, 
even more, than Mr. Langdale ; but his knowledge, 
such as it was, while it increased his pride, perhaps 
only served to show that his ignorance could not 
be invincible. He vaunted himself on walking on 
the shores of the mighty ocean of patristic lore, and 
returning with the pebbles of truth, which he ima- 
gined he had skillfully extracted from the sands of 
error. He mistook the great chimes of the eternal 
surges for applause of his valiant achievements, and, 
dreading lest they should be ingloriously disproved, 
he commanded His simple-minded followers to re- 


474 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


ceive what he had gathered, and dare no search for 
themselves. It was a wise precaution ; for, had 
they ventured further, they might have found them- 
selves borne away from the shores of error, and 
have deemed his pebbles a poor substitute for the 
diamonds and pearls of the sunlight strand beyond. 

It was not many weeks ere a paragraph was seen 
in the Daily Slanderer^ announcing that Mr. Lang- 
dale had returned from the continent, after a resi- 
dence there of a year and more. Not content with 
his own perversion, which was only now made 
public, he was seeking in every direction for prose- 
lytes, and had already succeeded in inducing his 
sister to leave her establishment at Whetholm 
Green, which had immediately been placed under 
the direction of Miss Dobbs, the well-known Prot- 
estant nun. Miss Langdale had been conveyed to 
Paris by her brother, and no doubt would soon 
repent the fearful step she had taken in the dun- 
geons of the Inquisition. Mr. Langdale, having 
secured his unfortunate sister, had returned to 
England, full of zeal for fresh conquests, and the 
most fearful consequences might be anticipated. 
The Slanderer, however, had raised its warning 
voice, had done its duty to its country, and, it 
hoped, would meet the reward of its untiring zeal 
in the next world at least, if not in this. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 


“ As to my talent for ubiquity, 

There's nothing like it in all antiquity ; 

Only find me in negus and applause, 

And I’m your man for any cause. 

If wrong the cause, the more my delight. 

Though I don’t object to it even when right.” — Moore. 



iXCUSE me, Miss Rossmore/' Dr. 
Thundertone had never dared to call 
her Katie ; there was a flash in her eye, 
an earnestness in her purpose, and a straightfor- 
ward honesty in her manner which made him quail 
and feel small in her presence, thunder as he might 
elsewhere. Excuse me, Miss Rossmore, but real- 
ly this is rather too Popish. Of course, the work 
is, in itself, no way objectionable, though it does 
require a little correction ; in fact, I have myself 
prepared a revised prayer book, which Sir Timothy 
Tadpole is to bring forward at the next session of 
Parliament, just as a model of what might be done 

( 475 ) 



476 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


in that way. Indeed something of the kind is ab- 
solutely required, but you must be aware,'’ he con- 
tinued, complacently. little more sugar, Ju- 

dith. Really this tea is not at all so good as what 
we have had lately ; you should speak to the serv- 
ants, my dear, about having the water properly 
boiled. Moses understands exactly how I like it, 
and, indeed, I think it would save you a great deal 
of trouble if you gave up the housekeeping to her ; 
she knows my little penchant, A little more cream, 
if you please ; thank you, I beg your pardon, 
Miss Rossmore, but you know these little domestic 
— Lady Rossmore, my dear, pray, pray do not 
favor us with a scene ; it really is very bad for 
your health, my dear, to give way to these hysteri- 
cal feelings.” 

But Lady Rossmore sobbed on, and at last 
shrieked so loudly that the Doctor took her in his 
arms and carried her off by main force to her 
apartment. Katie had witnessed such a scene 
more than once before, but she was determined 
this should be the last. Little as her mother had 
deserved her affection, she could not be altogether 
destitute of natural feeling, and it was unbearable 
to see a parent treated as she was in her own 
house, and by a man who so lately had flattered 
and caressed her, and who was freely enjoying 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


477 

her property and pluming himself on her reflected 
aristocracy. 

At first, Katie resolved to leave the room, and 
never again to enter an apartment where Dr. 
Thundertone was present; but, after a moment's 
hesitation, she resolved to await his return, and 
calmly announce her resolve. She knew any other 
line of conduct would probably expose her to 
a platform story, in which she would be rep- 
resented either as a victim to Popery, or the 
tool of some Jesuit in disguise, as might best 
suit the learned Doctor's auditors or his con- 
science. 

In a few moments he entered the room, and ad- 
dressed her as if nothing had happened. 

I was saying. Miss Rossmore, that it would 
require a person of peculiar intellect, and, indeed, 
of great spiritual discernment, to correct this book. 
Popery is very subtle, very insidious, and, per- 
haps even a word, left in unadvisedly, might con- 
vey something contrary to Gospel truth." The 
Doctor paused ; he was flattered because his lis- 
tener appeared more than usually attentive, and he 
was anxious to finish his mutton chops before they 
were cold. “ But this, my dear young lady, this is 
quite Popish," pointing to a large gilt cross on her 
prayer book. No one could be mistaken here ; 


478 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


the sign of the cross is the sign of Popery, the ac- 
cursed thing, and — 

I am glad to have heard you explain yourself 
so fully, Dr. Thundertone. I shall understand your 
religious belief for the future ; and as there is so 
much mention of the'^cross in the New Testament, 
I should advise you to revise that also, and present 
a new edition to the public, purged of the errors of 
Popery, which it certainly contains, as a companion 
to your book of Common Prayer.*’ 

Dr. Thundertone looked aghast ; he was in doubt 
whether Miss Rossmore was deferring to his judg- 
ment or ridiculing his pretensions, but, as the 
former supposition was the more agreeable, he 
accepted it. 

‘‘You have not quite caught my meaning, Miss 
Rossmore. Of course, the cross is mentioned in 
the Bible in a casual way, merely in a casual way, 
just as a vine or a door, merel}^ figurative, nothing 
more, my dear Miss Rossmore, I assure you. But 
with regard to your remark about revising the 
Bible, indeed it shows great thought, most re- 
markable for one so young.” The Doctor felt he 
was bound to flatter in proportion to the compli- 
ment which he imagined had been paid to himself. 
“I have thought of it, I assure you, and have al- 
ready a little work in preparation to prove that 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


479 


one book of the Bible, as we receive it, (I do not 
allude to the Apocrypha, of course, which is purely 
Popish,) is certainly not divinely inspired ; I mean 
the Canticles, or Song of Solomon. There are sev- 
eral passages in other books, also, which require 
most careful explanation, and, indeed, are, I think, 
very doubtful. In fact, there is scarcely a book in 
the Bible, the inspiration of which has not, at some 
time or other, been disputed. Luther, our great 
Reformer, had doubts about many portions. The 
Epistle of St. James he altogether rejected. The 
Unitarians, you are aware, do not accept the first 
chapter of St. John, but, of course, they are 
obliged -to do this ; it completely condemns their 
theory regarding the appearance of Christ upon 
earth ; and, really, I do not see why they have not 
a perfect right to use their own private judgment 
on the matter, as well as any other body of Pro- 
testants. But, pray do not look so shocked. Miss 
Rossmore. I assure you I am not a Unitarian. I 
believe in our Lord’s divinity, and could recite 
your creed as devoutly as any one of your party.” 

Am I to understand. Dr. Thundertone, that you 
consider the cross on which our Divine Lord died 
was merely figurative ? Your words imply as much.” 

‘‘ Certainly not. Miss Rossmore ; it was a real 
cross of wood. But ” " 


48 o 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 


‘‘ I beg your pardon interrupted Katie ; I 
am inquisitive this morning, and I have another 
enquiry to make/’ There was a haughty contempt 
in her manner not usual to her ; but the Doctor 
was so charmed with the attention which she ap- 
peared to give to his observations, that it escaped 
his notice, and he bowed acquiescence. 

May I ask, if the cross on which our Lord Jesus 
Christ died for our redemption was really a visible, 
tangible object, why you consider a representation, 
even a remembrance of it, purely Popish ?” 

Because, my dear young lady, it was not in- 
tended to be remembered ; and it leads to idola- 
trous practices, just as insisting too strongly on 
the Divinity of Christ — mind, I say ‘too strongly’ — 
has led Roman Catholics to worship His mother.” - 
“ I understand you. Dr. Thundertone,” replied 
Catherine, rising slowly from her seat. “ I under- 
stand you ; and your conduct towards my mother 
is fully explained. I am not a Roman Catholic, 
nor have I had any serious idea of becoming one 
until this morning ; but your remarks have con- 
vinced me that, if truth is to be found anywhere, 
it must be in that communion. You do not believe 
in the divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ; you do 
not really believe that He was God as well as man. 
If you believed that when He lay in the Blessed 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 48 1 

Virgin’s womb he was the Eternal God, who had 
existed from all ages, you would honor and revere 
her as the mother of God, as the only being pure 
enough to contain within her womb Him who 
containeth all things, and you would respect all 
women for her sake. If you really believed that 
he was God, j^ou would reverence even the very 
mention of the cross on which the blood of God 
was poured forth for our salvation. If it be Popery 
to love the cross, to venerate it, and to picture it, 
then. Dr. Thundertone, I am a Papist, and unfit to 
be any longer an inmate of a house where the 
cross is despised, and the Divinity of Christ Jesus 
all but denied.” 

Before the Doctor had time to reply she had left 
the breakfast-room, and in a few moments was on 
her knees at a little oratory, which, in spite of her 
mother’s expostulations, and the ridicule even of 
the servants, she had arrayed in her own apart- 
ment. She was determined to leave her mother’s 
house. Indeed, the incessant persecution she was 
subject to made a residence there most tr^dng. 
Every action was watched, every look suspected, 
and even her remarks in conversation interpreted 
far otherwise than they were intended. 

For a long hour she knelt, with her head bowed 
almost to the ground, prostrated in utter, lonely 
21 


482 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


sorrow. The past was one great sorrow, the future 
a dismal blank ; that which had once made life 
look so beautiful was forever gone. She was alone, 
utterly, wretchedly alone ; and the cold forms of 
religion on which she had lately leant failed her in 
her hour of need, or only seemed to make her 
grief more poignant. There was still the daily 
service, the communion on Thursdays and saint 
days, the occasional letter from Dr. Humbletone, 
and the interview for confession and advice once 
in two or three months ; but what wassail this to 
one crushed to earth by more than common an- 
guish, and needing something more than forms 
and words to enable her to struggle and conquer 
in the great battle of life. With some idea that 
sorrow was a holy thing ; with some love of suffer- 
ing, because Christ had suffered ; with some at- 
tempts at patience under her cross, because that 
cross had come from Him who had borne an an- 
guish passing human words to tell or human 
thoughts to imagine, Katie struggled on beneath 
her burden ; but at every step she sank over- 
wearied, and knew not that she needed sacramental 
grace to enable her to bear it aright. 

Katie had resolved to leave her mother’s house ; 
but where to find a home was a question difficult 
indeed to answer. After some thought she decided 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


483 


on writing to Dr. Humbletone, and asking his ad- 
vice. She hoped that her mother would give her 
an allowance which would support her in a re- 
spectable family for the present, and for the future 
she had neither hopes nor fear. On her return to 
London, after Mr. Helmore's death. Dr. Humble- 
tone had done his best to induce her to enter a 
sisterhood ; but she had positively refused. The 
accounts which were made public about Miss 
Dobbs' establishment were by no means attractive, 
and though she had seen but very little of Ger- 
trude since she took up her abode at Whetholm 
Green, that little had satisfied her that, however 
kind Miss Langdale might be as a superioress, or 
however holy the work in which the sisters were 
engaged, it was by no means a place for one who 
was depressed in mind, and whose physical strength 
was slowly giving way under a weight of mental 
suffering which seemed every day harder to endure. 

Her note was brief, but she earnestly requested 
an immediate reply, as she felt sure from the events 
of the morning that she must prepare for even 
more annoyance from Dr. Thundertone and his sis- 
ters than she had previously experienced. 

When Lady Rossmore married the reverend 
divine, she was by no means prepared for an addi- 
tion to her establishment which her matrimonial 


484 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


engagement involved. But the Doctor was deter- 
mined. Moses and Aaron had been his companions, 
or rather his slaves, from childhood ; and such 
they were destined to continue to the termination 
of their mortal career. Their names had been men- 
tioned once or twice during the time of courtship, 
but her ladyship had very naturally concluded that 
they were either men-servants or domestic animals 
of some description ; and was too much absorbed 
by the flattering attentions she received to enquii'e 
further. 

While on their wedding tour, the Doctor spoke 
more particularly of his sisters, and trusted Lady 
Rossmore would allow them to remove to her 
house, and prepare it for their return. The request 
seemed reasonable, and in an evil hour she acqui- 
esced. On her arrival in London, after a longer 
absence than was anticipated, she found the Doc- 
tor’s servants in her house and her own dismissed. 
She was informed that the latter had left of their 
own accord, and that in consequence the Misses 
Thundertone had been obliged to engage their old 
domestics, who had not as yet found situations. 

The honeymoon was not over, or probably her 
ladyship might not have yielded so meekly. A few 
weeks were sufficient to convince her in a very 
practical manner that she need no longer expect to 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 485 

be mistress in her own establishment. Miss Moses, 
or Mosse, as she was colloquially termed, was an 
adept in housekeeping, and determined to show her 
skill. Aaron was no less notable in domestic work, 
and between the cooking propensities of the one, 
and the cleaning propensities of the other, there 
was little peace for the unfortunate bride. 

At first she resolutely resisted their attempts at 
supremacy, but after a few hysterical scenes, and 
touching remembrances of her late dear lord, she 
yielded to her fate, and Mosse and Aaron became 
ladies paramount of the menagL Except for the 
humiliation of being a cypher, or rather a victim, in 
her own house, the arrangement was desirable 
enough. No respectable servant would have en- 
dured their perpetual interference in the culinary 
department, an interference which would have been 
carried on in spite of her ladyship, even had she 
kept the keys and the purse ; and the Doctor would 
have incessantly complained of any meal which had 
not been prepared under their special superintend- 
ence ; so that, on the whole, yielding produced a 
calm if it did not altogether produce peace. 

Doctor Thundertone’s father had kept a small 
grocer’s shop in a country town not far from Lon- 
don. He was an individual of indefinite religious 
views, and unlimited personal peculiarities. None 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


486 

of his children had ever been baptized, as he con- 
sidered it an immaterial ceremony, and, on the 
whole, rather Popish. But he had given them all 
Scriptural names, and in his selection had adhered to 
such as could be found in the Old Testament, as 
further removed from all possibility of the contam- 
ination of Rome. 

His son was designated Adam, but on the birth 
of twin daughters he insisted that they should be 
respectively designated Moses and Aaron. It was 
in vain for his better half to expostulate. He de- 
clared Moses and Aaron were the great lights of 
the old law, and the leaders of Israel. They never 
would have countenanced Popery, he was sure ; and 
his children should bear their names, if only as a 
living protest of their father s anti-papal zeal. As 
time passed on the peculiarity of the appellation 
was almost forgotten by the family in its constant 
use. » 

When Dr. Thundertone obtained an eminent 
position in the Evangelical world his parents were 
dead, and Moses and Aaron consigned to oblivion, 
or known only to the domestics of his establish- 
ment, with whom, in the absence of their distin- 
guished and enlightened brother, they usually asso- 
ciated. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 


“ It is not sleeping on the hard ground, or fasting on bread and 
water, that necessarily proves that the soul is mortified. . . A man 
may lie down on the ground and allow all the world to trample 
on him, and not be humble. These are humiliations ; they are not 
humility.” — Mount St. Lawrence. 

NE of Doctor Humbletone’s strictest in- 
junctions to his followers was secrecy in 
all that concerned their intercourse with 
him. On this account Katie always posted her let- 
ters to him herself, and while Ethel lived she had 
always received his communications through her. 
Of late she had been obliged to have his letters di- 
rected to her mother’s house, and many anxious 
and nervous watchings for the postman were thereby 
caused ; though, as all the family were late in rising, 
she generally managed to obtain possession of her 
letters unobserved. 

As she walked slowly to the nearest post-office 
with her letter, a sudden wish to see Gertrude, 
joined to a very strong determination to effect her 

(487) 



488 


HORNE-HURSr RECTOR F. 


purpose speedily, seized on her mind. She had 
been long accustomed to an independent line of 
conduct, and in truth it was rather necessity than 
choice that obliged her to it. Lady Rossmore 
cared but little where she went, or how her time 
was occupied, so that her own comfort or conve- 
nience was in no way interfered with ; consequently 
she lived almost hke a stranger in her mother’s 
house ; and, except for the religious persecution 
inflicted on her by Dr. Thundertone and his sisters, 
she was tolerably free to act as she pleased. 

Returning home hastily after posting her letter, 
she wrote a note to Lady Rossmore, telling her she 
was going to Whetholm Green to see Gertrude, 
and would probably not be at home until late next 
morning ; and then, desiring the servant to call a cab, 
soon found herself at the station. 

It was early in the afternoon when she arrived 
at the Sisterhood. A short drive from the railway 
brought her to the new building which they now 
inhabited. Katie looked up at the high walls and 
massive door-way, as the man rang for admittance, 
and shuddered from a strange, undefined fear. On 
her way she had thought more than once that it 
might be better for her to try if she could bear the 
life ; anything seemed more desirable than the aim- 
less, objectless existence she now led. But there 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


489 

was a death-cold gloom on all around that chilled 
her purpose, and made her feel that this was not 
the home for her. 

After a delay of nearly a quarter of an hour, the 
massive iron gate was opened by a frightened- 
looking girl in a peculiar costume, who she after- 
wards learned was one of the orphans educated by 
the sisters. Another delay followed, somewhat long- 
er, in the parlor, when the door opened and a sister 
entered whom Katie had never seen before. At first 
she said positively that Miss Rossmore could not 
see her friend ; but ascertaining by degrees who 
her visitor was, and at length, after cautious ques- 
tioning, having discovered that she was a peni- 
tent'' of Dr. Humbletone's, her manner changed, 
and became somewhat more friendly. 

Ashamed of intruding longer, Katie rose to go ; 
but the sister requested she would remain a few 
moments, as she said the lady superior was, she be- 
lieved, in the house, and she would mention Miss 
Rossmore's wish to her. 

Katie had not heard of Miss Langdale's depar- 
ture, and was surprised to hear her spoken of in so 
formal and unusual a manner ; she was not aware that 
Miss Dobbs had succeeded her in office, and exact- 
ed a double share of deference in consequence of 
her increased importance and dignity. 

21* 


490 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


An hour passed away and still Katie remained 
alone, and, as the monjents passed, she became so 
painfully nervous and anxious, that more than once 
she bitterly regretted the step she had taken. There 
was nothing in the apartment to occupy her ; no 
vestige of a book or pamphlet ; nothing to form 
conjectures on or to lead any one to suppose that 
the room was inhabited or used, except for the pur- 
pose of accommodating visitors with a chair and 
a cheerless prospect. 

At length the door opened, and to Katie's incon- 
ceivable surprise and delight. Dr. Humbletone ap- 
proached her, and laid his hand kindly on her head 
as she knelt for his blessing. 

The Doctor had no motive for concealment on 
the occasion, so in a short time she was made 
aware of the changes which had taken place. Her 
surprise was indeed great when she heard of Miss 
Langdale’s departure, and her enquiries for Ger- 
trude proportionally anxious. On this subject, 
however, the Doctor was mysterious and reserved, 
and it was not without difficulty that she ascertain- 
ed that her friend had gone to one of Miss Dobbs' 
establishments, many miles distant from London. 
She did not know for several years after that Ger- 
trude had never heard of her visit, and had been 
sent from the house on a quarter of an hour's no- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


491 

tice, during the two long hours she had waited in 
the parlor, so anxiously expecting to see her. 

Doctor Humbletone remained some time alone 
with Katie, and earnestly urged her to enter a sis- 
terhood, as it seemed her only resource in her pre- 
sent painful and most trying position. Not aware 
of the extent to which that gentleman had been 
fascinated by Miss Dobbs, she mentioned all that 
she had heard against her, and expressed no little 
dread of placing herself under the government of 
one said to be so tyrannical ; but the Doctor had 
an excuse or explanation for everything, and al- 
most convinced Miss Rossmore that the Lady Su- 
perior was a martyr to her zeal, and to the envy of 
those who could not appreciate her motives and 
consequently misjudged her actions. Had Katie 
possessed the power of clairvoyance, and could 
she have used it to take a peep into the interior 
of Miss Dobbs’ sisterhood, she would soon have 
been satisfied that the rumors she had heard were 
but too well founded, and that Dr. Humbletone 
was the last person who would ever believe the 
truth, no matter how plainly it might be reprei^ent- 
ed to him ; thanks to the fascination in which he 
was held by a clever and intriguing woman. 

After a lonely evening spent in the village inn, 
and a short interview with Dr. Humbletone next 


492 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


morning for confession, Katie returned to London, 
as little settled in her plans for the future as she 
had been when setting out for Whetholm Green 
on the previous day. Had Miss Langdale been at 
the Sisterhood she would probably have remained 
some days, but Miss Dobbs made no advances to 
further intimacy, not wishing at the moment to 
add to her numbers, as it required all her general- 
ship to manage those already under her direc- 
tion. 

Indeed, her task was by no means an easy one, 
and as she had lately made arrangements for mak- 
ing her establishment even more Catholic,” her 
difficulties were not decreased. 

Sister Sophia had been condemned to a twelve- 
month's penance for allowing Miss Stapleton to 

leave D , which had by no means improved her 

temper. She was a person of a naturally morose 
and gloomy mind, and strongly inclined to Cal- 
vinistic doctrine, all which was increased tenfold 
by Miss Dobbs’ training. By the usual judi- 
cious mixture of flattery and professions of affec- 
tion, she had been so completely won to that lady’s 
interest, as to have become her most abject tool ; 
and as such, an invaluable instrument in carrying 
out her plans. She had been one of the first to 
join Miss Dobbs with the sister Charlotte already 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


493 

mentioned, and who was as dissimilar in disposition 
as she was in appearance. 

It was not long before Miss Dobbs discovered 
the necessity of keeping the two sisters ” separ- 
ate if she meant to keep either in her establishment; 
and as she required to have a person whom she 
could trust in each of her houses, it was neither 
difficult nor inconvenient to make this arrange- 
ment. 

The sisters at Whetholm Green had been placed 
in a most perplexing position when abandoned by 
their superioress. As they could not agree amongst 
themselves in choosing a successor, they had no 
choice but to accept Dr. Humbletone’s proposal of 
placing Miss Dobbs at the helm, and submitting to 
her guidance. 

She was hastily summoned to London. But as 
she had anticipated the position of affairs, she was 
by no means taken by surprise. Hastily telegraph- 
ing for those of her sisters in whom she placed 
most confidence, she proceeded to Whetholm 
Green, or Christ Church House, as the establish- 
ment was strangely misnamed ; and when once 
duly installed by Dr. Humbletone, and the passive 
acquiescence of most of its inmates, it was plain 
what her rule would be. 

Wisely judging that if Miss Langdale’s sisters 


494 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


were left together, they would make comparisons, 
which, perhaps, might not be altogether compli- 
mentary to herself, and thus excite or incite each 
other to disaffection to her maternal rule, she de- 
termined then and there to separate them as widely 
as possible. In a few weeks, or less, her purpose 
was effected. Several of her own sisters, headed 
by Charlotte Coles, were left in possession of the 
beautiful and extensive building which had been 
erected at the expense of its former inmates ; while 
the ladies of Whetholm Green were sent in twos 
and threes to various parts of the country, to be 
subdivided as speedily as circumstances would 
permit. 

From the moment Miss Dobbs entered their 
establishment, their fate was sealed. Submission 
or departure were the only terms offered ; but as 
she was anxious to effect her purpose as quietly as 
possible, she condescended to break in on her re- 
tirement so far as to see each of the sisters alone 
for a considerable length of time. Her object was 
twofold. First, she wished, to ascertain, as far as 
she could, their characters and circumstances ; and, 
secondly, she feared that disadvantageous reports 
of her conduct might go abroad, and was desirous 
to try what a personal interview would effect. 
Nor was Dr. Humbletone less busily employed. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


495 


He was most anxious that it should appear as if the 
sisters of Christ Church House had entreated Miss 
Dobbs to govern their establishment ; and if he 
could not impress them with his own views of the 
greatness of the favor she had conferred on them, 
or the magnitude of the sanctity of their new su- 
perior, he hoped at least to cheat them or himself 
into a belief that their submission was not altogether 
involuntary. 

It required the whole weight of his authority, 
and the loudest assertions of the dignity of his of- 
fice and the duty of absolute submission to priestly 
rule, to induce some of his followers to submit. 

The sisters had yielded in almost every instance 
from a most pure and conscientious motive ; they 
believed that they had received a call from God 
to leave their homes and their comforts, to live 
more entirely for Him, and to minister to Him in 
the person of His poor; and they felt they dare 
not return again to those homes, however dear, lest 
they should escape from a dreaded future at the 
risk of present sin. Many motives less pure flowed 
in a strong under-current beneath. Some yielded a 
slave-like deference to every opinion of Dr. Hum- 
bletone, because he was a great man, and because 
it flattered their vanity to call him father ; 
others, of a more scrupulous mind, were terrified 


496 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


into submission by his grandiloquent assertions of 
authority and personal infallibility; others were 
silenced by crushing imputations of pride, which 
they were supposed to manifest to a degree that 
would consign them at once to eternal perdition, 
if they ventured to use their own judgment even on 
the most obvious facts ; others had resigned them- 
selves to the gloomy, misanthropic, self-righteous 
spirit which pervaded the whole party, and felt 
they might as well be miserable at the Land's End 
as in London, and that their destination was a mat- 
ter of little consequence to them ; while not a few 
were really anxious to judge for themselves of Miss 
Dobbs' establishment, and to ascertain personally 
Avhether their misgivings had any real foundation. 




CHAPTER XXXVI. 


Earth has no sorrow that God cannot heal.” — Moore. 

HERE were few of the sisters at Whet- 
holm Green who felt Miss Langdale's 
departure so bitterly as Gertrude Hel- 
more. More than ever friendless and alone, she at 
once acquiesced in the arrangements Dr. Humble- 
tone made for her. When summoned to Miss 
Dobbs’ presence, she could not resist the apparent 
sympathy and affection with which she was re- 
ceived, and freely resigned herself to that lady’s 
will and pleasure as to her immediate destination. 

A second interview followed, and Gertrude be- 
gan to hope that, after all, perhaps Miss Dobbs 
had been misrepresented. At least, she had no 
reason to suppose that her expressions of kindness 
and interest were unreal, or that her existence 
would be practically ignored in a few days by the 
individual who now expressed the most maternal 
interest in all that concerned her welfare of body 

' ( 497 ) 



498 


HORNE HURST RECTOR Y. 


or of soul. Grateful for unexpected kindness, and 
of a naturally confiding disposition, she felt happier 
after the interview than she expected, and had she 
obtained permission to see Miss Rossmore, she 
would have desired nothing more. This, however, 
Miss Dobbs declared, with many expressions of 
regret for Gertrude’s disappointment, was quite 
impossible, as she was most anxious, for reasons she 
could not explain, that as little as possible should 
be known of the movements of the sisters, adding, 
in a somewhat sentimental tone, which struck Ger- 
trude, even at the time, “that she was obliged to 
be cautious in all her arrangements, having already 
suffered so much from calumny.” 

The next evening, as Gertrude was going into the 
chapel for vespers, sister Elizabeth called her aside, 
and begged she would put up her books or any 
other little matters she might require to take from 
Whetholm, as the lady superior had given orders 
that they were to set out by the next train for 

D . “ You will not require an}^ of your religious 

dress, except what you wear,” she continued, “ as 
dearest mother says you will be one of us. And,” 
she added, after a moment’s pause, embracing her 
warmly, “ I congratulate you on the favor you have 
received of being admitted to our holy society.” 

It was midnight before the party arrived at 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


499 

Miss Dobbs’ sisters were accustomed to nocturnal 
excursions, and thought nothing of it. But Ger- 
trude and the ladies who had been ordered to ac- 
company her from Christ Church House could not 
but feel painfully many circumstances which oc- 
curred on the journey. Miss Dobbs always travelled 
in the first-class, with one or two attendants, as the 
most suitable (and, perhaps, the most comfortable) 
mode of transit for a personage of her exalted dig- 
nity. For her children, however, such luxuries 
were considered altogether unnecessary ; and, in- 
deed, it never occurred to any of them to wish for 
them. If they had travelled by daylight, or less 
frequently, the mode of conveyance would have 
mattered little ; but journeying, as they did, at 
night, and unprotected, it was scarcely a matter of 
surprise if their peculiar dress and appearance pro- 
voked contempt, if not insult. Miss Elmore, how- 
ever, seemed accustomed to such incidents, and 
looked in no way discomposed while a conversa- 
tion, of which they were the subject, was carried 
on in the next compartment to the one occupied by 
the sisters. Gertrude could not help hearing every 
word that was said, until at length, when remarks 
were made about Dr. Humbletone and Miss Dobbs, 
which threatened to become more and more offen- 
sive, she betook herself to the simple expedient of 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


500 

stopping her ears, an example followed by several 
of her companions. 

As the sisters had some luggage, Miss Elmore 
engaged cabs to convey them to their destination ; 
otherwise they might have encountered even more 
painful trials in walking through the streets at such 
an hour. 

After a long drive, they arrived at the house, 
which Gertrude supposed would be her future 
residence. It was a very large, rambling building, 
half-farmhouse and half-castle, some way outside 
the town of Dunston. A high wall enclosed the 
grounds, and made it altogether a suitable place 
for Miss Dobbs' purposes. It was some time before 
the sleeping inmates could be aroused, and when 
the door was at length opened, all was darkness, 
so that the strangers could only grope their way 
after those who were better acquainted with the 
locality. 

After a delay of some quarter-of-an-hour, a light 
glimmered in the distance, and Gertrude became 
aware that she was in a large oak-paneled room. 
No object was distinctly visible, except a child’s 
cradle and a luxurious-looking chair ; the former 
was tenanted by an infant, who gave indications of 
its dislike to being disturbed ; the latter, Gertrude 
learned subsequently, was used by the lady superior, 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


SOI 


when she condescended to visit Belmont Lodge. 
Late rising and a late breakfast necessarily followed 
the fatigues of the previous day, but the afternoon 
gave abundant leisure for observation, and some 
opportunity of obtaining information as to the 
habits and customs of her new associates. Ger- 
trude soon ascertained that this house was one of 
the lady mother’s favorite places of residence, and 
that in consequence, though it was very large, no 
one was allowed to remain there any length of 
time, except the sister and servants who waited on 
her. The reason given for this arrangement was, 
that dearest mother’s health required the most 
strict retirement. But it was not long before cir- 
cumstances occured which satisfied Gertrude that 
this statement was far from being the true one. 
Everything in the house was in confusion and dis- 
order. The sisters took their meals in the kitchen 
and slept anywhere ; but as the arrangement was 
evidently intended to be only temporary, it seemed 
a matter of little moment. 

In a few days the party had dispersed. Several 
returned to London, others to Bath, and Gertrude 

was desired to accompany Miss Elmore to D . 

It was, indeed, a painful journey. The train passed 
close to Horne-hurst, so close that she could almost 
see the tower of the dear old village-church, where 


502 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


her father had so lately been buried. Mrs. Hel- 
more, it is true, had left the place, with her family ; 
but Horne-hurst was still Horne-hurst to the hearts 
of those who had lived and loved in its great par- 
sonage for so many happy years. 

Gertrude was now separate from all her old 
companions. Where they had been scattered, she 
knew not, as all was mystery on such, and, indeed, 
on all subjects. It was a lonely, dreary future that 
stretched itself before her; and a most unexpected 
trial added to its desolateness. While at Christ 
Church House, she had freely corresponded with 
Dr. Humbletone, and, indeed, had been encouraged 
to do so by Miss Langdale, who was always most 
anxious that her sisters should apply in every diffi- 
culty to their spiritual guide ; but now she was 
sternly and abruptly told that such intercourse 
could not be allowed, as the lady superior did 
not permit any one under her government to see, 
or correspond with, any clergyrhan. It was not 
long before Gertrude discovered that she was not 
the only person in Miss Dobbs' establishment who 
felt this regulation to be a most bitter and grievous 
trial. 

Several young sisters had been left at D , 

under the charge of a sister Mildred, an elderly 
lady, whose benevolent and gentle manner made 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


503 


her a universal favorite, but who was considered 
by Miss Dobbs by no means severe enough, and, 
therefore, never left long over others. Two or three 
of these ladies had been induced to join the estab- 
lishment by a clergyman under whose ministry 
they had imbibed Puseyite, or High Church doc- 
trines, and they now felt bitterly that they could 
no longer avail themselves of his advice and instruc- 
tion. He, good man, naturally enough, thought 
that they would have every spiritual advantage 
while under Miss Dobbs’ care, and satisfied himself 
that Dr. Humbletone, with whom he supposed 
they would have frequent intercourse, would be a 
better, or at least a more practical confessor than 
himself. 

More than two years had passed, and they had 
not had one single opportunity of informing him 
of their difficulties. What wonder if they sank 
into listless despondence, and dragged out a pain- 
ful, aimless existence ! There were many reasons 
why escape was impossible, though neither bolts 
nor bars chained them to their habitation. If the}^ 
left Miss Dobbs, who would believe their tale ? 
Protestants might do so, because they would natural- 
ly suppose any amount of tyranny and misery likely 
to exist in an establishment calling itself conventual. 
But these ladies, though Protestants in name, did 


504 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


not consider themselves such, and would have 
scorned the sympathy of those who would have 
been most forward to offer it. 

Shaking of heads and dismal looks, with yet 
more dismal apprehensions of the fate impending 
over all who turn back from a high calling,'’ was 
all they expected from their own party ; though 
some few had their misgivings about Miss Dobbs’ 
establishment, and had set up sisterhoods for them- 
selves on a small scale, where less ambitious or 
less clever superioresses ruled more or less despot- 
ically over their one or two unfortunate subjects ; 
but on the whole, any individual leaving these 
places was considered to have lost caste, whatever 
her sufferings might have been. 

It is true, the bitter, heart-wrung cries of these 
poor victims of a false zeal, and an attempt to 
introduce Catholic practices without Catholic au- 
thority to regulate them, might be scorned or 
stifled by the clamors of those who knew of their 
sufferings only in theory, and who had neither 
the piety nor the courage to imitate a self-immola- 
tion worthy of a martyr’s crown, had it been suf- 
fered for justice sake. But there is a Tribunal 
where the oppressed can never plead in vain ; 
and there is a day coming when the shallow ex- 
cuses of the oppressor will wither into abject fear 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


505 


before the clear light of a judgment which takes 
no bribes from vanity, human respect, or self- 
interest. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

“ Had their oracular dicta but thrown out, 

You’d fancy those wise men of Gotham must find the 
Philosopher’s stone out.” — Schiller. 


E will be very glad to see Miss Ross- 
more, William, or any other friend of 
jours, except Miss Dobbs ; but I again 
repeat, that if she enters this house, I shall con- 
sider it my duty to leave it.'’ 

Dr. Humbletone looked a storm ; but he hesi- 
tated a moment before he spoke ; evidently he had 
made up his mind to something that he was almost 
ashamed to utter. There was a calm determina- 
tion, too, in his wife’s manner, which awed him, 
great man though he was. It was a strange con- 
trast to Miss Dobbs’ perpetual flattery. Still, the 
flattery was very much pleasanter, and, as it was 
administered with the utmost delicacy and caution, 
22 



5o6 horne-hurst rector f. 

was scarcely suspected to be such by its reverend 
recipient. 

I intend Miss Dobbs to use my house whenever 
she finds it necessary or convenient/’ replied the 
Doctor coldly. You can make what arrange- 
ments you please for yourself.” 

Mrs. Humbletone rose from her seat. I had a 
letter from Campbell yesterday, asking me to go to 
him for a few days. I will write now, and say he 
may expect me to-morrow ; and perhaps,” she 
continued sadly, oh, how sadly ! perhaps he can 
give me a home as long as it may be necessary.” 

The Doctor was left alone with his own thoughts, 
and they were not the most agreeable companions ; 
still, he never for a moment thought of yielding to 
his wife — or, rather, to his conscience ; which, if 
he had listened to it, would have told him very 
distinctly that he was committing and persevering 
in a grievous sin. Strange, how the human heart 
can deceive itself! That evening he lectured at 

St. church, on resisting calls ;” but Miss Dobbs’ 

last letter was in his pocket-book, and Miss Dobbs’ 
last eloquent picture of the glorious restoration of 
the English Church, which they were to effect, 
was glowing before his imagination. 

Mrs. Humbletone went to her son’s next morning, 
and a few hours later Miss Dobbs arrived at her 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


507 

house, and made herself all the more at home in 
consequence of the absence of its mistress. The 
Doctor was extremely edified by her expressions of 
regret at his wife’s absence, of the cause of which 
she wisely appeared ignorant ; still more was he 
charmed by her humility in condescending to use 
his poor abode even for a night ; but the climax of 
his admiration was reached when he discovered 
that she kept a new rule she had lately introduced 
into the sisterhood so rigidly, that she wore noth- 
ing on her feet ‘except sandals. It is true, they 
were of the finest leather and the most exquisite 
workmanship, but on this account all the more 
suitable to the dignity and spiritual importance of 
the wearer. It is also true that it was the first and 
last time Miss Dobbs appeared in such a costume ; 
but the Doctor was not yet aware how much that 
lady suffered to give him edification. 

The Lady Mother departed next morning, ac- 
companied by her attendant. It was near Christ- 
mas ; and as she occasionally allowed the sisters to 
go to confession before that festival, she was pro- 
ceeding to , where that important (ceremony, 

shall we call it?) usually took place. Telegraph 
messages were issued, as if in a case of life and 
death, to various houses, and the sisters hastened 
with all dutiful speed to obey their superior’s man- 


5o8 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


date. As yet, Gertrude was scarcely initiated into 
these mysterious proceedings. She had obtained 

a good deal of information at , in the way 

already mentioned, and as sister^ or, rather. Infant 
Eliza, one of the ladies before mentioned, was still 
in the house, she seized the first opportunity of en- 
quiring from her the probable object of this unex- 
pected summons. 

A long and deeply interesting conversation fol- 
lowed, though the information Gertrude gathered 
from it by no means tended to tranquilize her 
mind. 

And is it really true,’' exclaimed Gertrude, 
that you only see Doctor Humbletone once or 
twice a year, and never except when the Lady Su- 
perior is in the house ?” 

Perfectly true,” replied her companion, sadly ; 
but you are well off to have even this satisfaction. 
I am now here two years, and have never either 
seen or heard from my spiritual guide.” Even as 
she spoke the tears gathered in her eyes, and fell 
thick and fast. 

Poor child !” exclaimed Gertrude, kindly. It 
must be indeed a trial ; but why do you not write 
to Miss Dobbs ? Surely, if she knew you felt it so 
much she would do something for you.” 

‘‘ Gertrude,” replied Eliza, looking round anx- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


509 


iously to see that they were safe from listeners and 
from observation, I have long wished to speak 
freely to yon, and as we may never meet again, I 
will take this opportunity.’*’ 

The desire of intercourse was mutual, and Ger- 
trude assented, having first remarked that they 
would probably be left some hours uninterrupted, 
as the other sisters were occupied with prepara- 
tions for the journey ; and even if they were found 
alone together, neither of them cared for blame, as 
they had long learned to be indifferent to a rule 
which was one day kept and the next day disre- 
garded, one month changed and the next re-en- 
forced, according to the caprice of a superior who 
seemed to have no other motive for the change 
than to show the power she possessed, or to exer- 
cise her love of rule. 

Gertrude’s thoughts, as she sat silently in the rail- 
way carriage which conveyed the sisters to , 

were by no means agreeable. One thing she fully 
determined on doing, and that was to acquaint 
Doctor Humbletone of all that had passed, as far 
as she could do so without compromising Eliza 
Rogers. She found it more difficult to act on her 
determination than she had anticipated. The Doc- 
tor was so much occupied with Miss Dobbs that 
he had but a few moments to spare for each of the 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 


SIO 

sisters, and in those few moments she was thor- 
oughly convinced of the hopelessness of any ap- 
peal to his judgment or his feelings ; both were 
hopelessly warped by the influence, and absolutely 
under the control of the lady mother. 

Although Miss Dobbs never asked, or even wish- 
ed to see her ‘‘ children ” on these occasions, or, 
indeed, on any other when it could possibly be 
avoided, she still continued to possess herself of in- 
formation about them. It was said by some that 
their confessions were forthwith reported to her by 
the Doctor, who always came direct from her apart- 
ment to each sister, and returned to it again before 
seeing another ; by others, that dearest mother ’’ 
supernatu rally knew even their inmost thoughts. 
However the information was obtained, certainly 
it was acted on, and Gertrude saw the sisters, with 

whom she had travelled to •, depart at various 

times to different places. Eliza Rogers was the last 

to leave. She was ordered to return to , by a 

train which did not reach that place until midnight. 
At that hour, alone and unprotected, she walked a 
distance of nearly three miles through the worst lo- 
calities of a town notorious for its profligacy. A 
few months later, Gertrude heard that she had left 
Miss Dobbs' establishment and returned to her 
friends, having contrived in some way to commu- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


Sii 

nicate with the clergyman already alluded to, and 
who came himself to rescue her from the maternal 
arms of her most maternal superior. 

Doctor Humbletone never forgave him this act 
of common charity ; we should rather say, of com- 
mon justice. And Eliza Rogers was long mentioned 
in the Society as an example and a ‘‘ caution to 
all who might be tempted to follow her example. 

The affair became public after a time, as Miss 
Stapleton’s had done ; and Miss Dobbs wrote a pa- 
thetic appeal to her beloved child,” imploring her 
to return to her maternal arms, from which she had 
no doubt already regretted that she had wandered. 

The appeal wonderfully touched the hearts of 
many sentimental and pious young ladies, who 
imagined Eliza Rogers had done '' something dread- 
ful,” and thought Miss Dobbs must be really a most 
charming person, and so affectionate and anxious 
about her sisters. Eliza, however, took the matter 
more calmly ; she could form a more correct esti- 
mate of the maternal tenderness which glowed so 
fervently on paper ; but she could declare very con- 
scientiously that she had never known it to exist 
any where else. 

A few months after her return home she died. 
The physicians said her disease was softening of the 
brain, which had been coming on for some time. 


512 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


and it could scarcely be doubted was the result 
of the system under which she had lived. Her 
family had at least the consolation of knowing that 
she received every spiritual and temporal consola- 
tion they could give, and had been saved the miser- 
able and lonely death-bed which must have been 
her lot had she continued longer in Miss Dobbs’ 
sisterhood. 

Gertrude never ascertained precisely what was 

Miss Dobbs’ object in keeping her at , but it 

enabled her to ascertain much more of that lady’s 
plans and mode of government than could have 
been ascertained elsewhere. 

For a week, Gertrude had the inexpressible feli- 
city of sleeping under the same roof with the lady 
mother ; but at the expiration of that period she 
was desired to move to a house about a quarter of 
a mile distant, where she found five or six sisters 
already established, under the care of Matron 
Martha, a lady who had been given that distinc- 
tive appellation as a reward for many years’ devotion 
to the service of the lady mother, and as the near- 
est approximation to the Benedictine “ Dame ” on 
which that individual felt it safe to venture, at least 
until she and Doctor Humbletone had adapted ” 
the Protestant church a little more to their views. 

Each day their lives became more miserable, as 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


513 


Miss Dobbs introduced new practices, which she 
considered more Catholic,” but which were sim- 
ply more absurd, or, rather, more like the Protest- 
ant idea of a Roman Catholic convent, which, it 
must be said, she carried out to the utmost perfec- 
tion. 

From the time she commenced Reverend Moth- 
er,” Miss Dobbs had always been disposed to play 
the part of domestic tyrant, or as she possibly im- 
agined it, of Lady Abbess. At first, when surround- 
ed by only two or three sisters, she was obliged to 
associate with them more or less ; but as her num- 
bers for a time rapidly increased, her sense of the 
importance of her office increased also, and she was 
anxious to make it felt by her subjects. 

Ladies sometimes remained in her house six or 
eight months, or even a year, without even a pass- 
ing glimpse of this most maternal individual. An 
elder sister directed the establishment and endeav- 
oured to impress them with the honor conferred on 
them in being under so holy a guidance. All 
around them she declared was redolent of Dobbs. 
Each regulation had cost her hours of anxious 
thought ; each rule, weary and sleepless nights. 
It was true, indeed, they had not seen her, but sure- 
ly they had felt her. Deep and low and mysteriously 
it was hinted that she knew {how, they could not 


514 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


tell, but certainly that she did know) all that passed. 
It was unpleasant to some people to feel they were 
perpetually haunted in this unnatural fashion, and 
many would have preferred, alas, for their ignor- 
ance and unbelief! a plain appearance of Dobbs to 
any ghostly imaginings. Of course, dearest moth- 
er knew nothing of all this, and would have been 
immeasurably horrified and shocked had it been 
even breathed to her. It was certainly a mystery 
how she knew some things, and how she pleaded ut- 
ter and absolute, we had almost said invincible, 
ignorance of others. 

Miss Langdale had never pretended to anything 
very supernatural, it was not her line, neither had 
she attempted to give the sisters instruction in the 
religious life, as she felt painfully that she was as 
ignorant as her companions, and that all were alike 
entering on a new and untried career. Nor did she 
wish to introduce anything extraordinary into their 
mode of life. Doctor Humbletone had visited a 
convent on the continent, and by some means ob- 
tained a view of the rule, which he had copied, and 
a statement of the hours of office, rising, etc., of 
the nuns. This, with some slight alteration, he 
adopted for the use of the inmates of Christ Church 
House. 

They rose at five, and said lauds immediately 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


SIS 

after; private prayer followed until seven, when 
prime was partly sung* and partly said. On several 
days of the week the sisters went to the parish 
church, where the communion service was said, and 
received bread and wine, after which they returned 
to breakfast, hurrying back again to morning 
prayers at nine, after which they said tierce. School, 
work, or visiting the poor, occupied them till twelve, 
when sext was said. At one they dined, and at two 
met for recreation until three, when none was re- 
cited ; after which, school or work occupied them 
until five. Some time was then allowed for private 
reading. At a quarter to six, vespers were partly 
sung and partly said. At six, supper, followed by 
recreation ; and then, at seven, evening prayers in 
the parish church. At eight, matins were said in 
their own oratory, and by ten most of the sisters 
had retired for the night. 

It was a cold, dreary round of forms, without the 
spirit which alone can give them life. They prided 
themselves on saying matins at night and lauds 
in the morning, because Catholics usually say those 
offices in succession. But they were so indifferent 
to the duty, that if from any cause it was omitted by 
a sister, she never recited it in private. The office 
said was taken from the Roman Breviary, with a 
careful omission of what the Doctor considered un- 


HORNE HURST RECTOR Y. 


516 

sound.’' The Prayer-book saints only were com- 
memorated, but whether from doubts of the sanc- 
tity of a St. Augustine or a St. Bernard, or from 
fear lest the very mention of their names should 
unsettle the religious belief of the sisters, by sug- 
gesting thoughts of Rome, Gertrude could never 
ascertain. 

To preserve the sisters from any knowledge of 
how much, or rather how entirely, they were in- 
debted to the Catholic Church for their form of 
life and practices of piety, was one great object of 
the founder of this establishment. Everything was 
made to appear as if it emanated from the Doctor, 
probably far more on this account than from any 
personal vanity about the authorship of works, 
which sooner or later could not fail to be traced 
to their real source. 

The majority of th^ sisters knew nothing what- 
ever of Catholic writings, or even of Catholic doc- 
trines. Most of them had been converts from Low 
Church views, and still held fast to their ancient 
prejudice against Popery, to an extent that would 
have charmed the orators of Exeter Hall or the 
members of the Evangelical Alliance. The Doctor 
had already suffered enough from secessions to 
Rome, and it was his object to increase in every 
possible way their early prejudices against it, and 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


S17 


to throw a cloud of mystery over the contraband 
goods they were permitted to use. How far he 
could do so honestly was a question between him- 
self and his God. He, at least, must have known 
that Catholics were not idolaters; that they did 
not put the Virgin Mary in place of Christ ; that 
they did not trust to their own merits for salvation ; 
that they did not worship a piece of bread as God ; 
and that they did not expect the saints in heaven 
to assist them in any other way than that in which 
he professed himself anxious to be assisted — namely, 
by the prayers of a righteous man, which we are 
told in Scripture availeth much. 

When the rule was prepared for the sisters, the 
Doctor had taken care to omit the constitutions. 
Such chapters as those which may be found in the 
rule of every religious order, referring to annual 
visitations and episcopal supervision, were obvious- 
ly out of place in a Protestant sisterhood. A rule 
without constitutions was an anomaly, but under 
the circumstances a necessary one. T o require visita- 
tions when there was no one to hold them, would 
only have excited inquiries as to what visitations 
were, and, when their value and importance were 
ascertained, to arouse uncomfortable suspicions as 
to why they were impracticable. But the Doctor 
was anxious to have some show of episcopal sane- 


5i8 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


tion for his work. True, as a Protestant, he was at 
liberty to establish any society that did not inter- 
fere with the law of the land ; but he did not con- 
sider himself a Protestant, and as he did not alto- 
gether approve either of the Catholic faith or the 
practices of Catholics, we must make many allow 
ances for the peculiarity of arrangement consequent 
thereon. 

He heard confessions, he received vows, and he 
founded a conventual establishment, which, as it 
was neither purely Protestant, nor at all Catholic, 
could only be designated as Humbletonian, a term, 
however, which the Doctor continually repudiated 
and strongly disaffectioned. Still, episcopal sanc- 
tion was ardently desired, and if the Lord Bishop 

of could only have been converted to 

Humbletonian views, it would have been considered 
a great “sign of life.’' The Bishop, however, did 
not change his opinions ; but, either from a sense 
of duty or a most unblameable curiosity, asked to 
see the rules. His lordship was aware that no 
conventual establishment could be intruded into any 
Catholic diocese without the permission of its 
bishop, and he was also aware that no Catholic 
lady or Catholic priest could establish a sisterhood 
or monastery independent of all control except 
their own. He also knew that vows must be re- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


519 


ceived by those authorized *by the Church to 
receive them, or profession was invalid, and a mere 
mockery of a sacred rite. The rule was placed be- 
fore the reverend father in God by his most dutiful 
children, but before it was submitted to his unen- 
lightened vision, it underwent an extra purgation. 
Every word which referred to a special consecra- 
tion of the inmates to a state of virginity was 
expunged, and the chapter on confession entirely 
abrogated. His lordship was simply taken in ; but, 
being in happy ignorance of that fact, expressed 
himself satisfied, to the great exultation of the 
Humbletonian party. 

Some of the inmates of the sisterhood were not 
quite so well pleased. It looked dishonest, and 
they could hardly think it otherwise, despite their 
deference for the reverend perpetrator. Moreover, 
they considered themselves religious,’' and could 
not bear that they should be represented by him 
merely as inmates of a pious boarding-house ; and 
if confession was right, was lawful in the Church 
of England, why should the bishop not be told that 
they practised it ? The Doctor listened calmly to 
their expostulations, assured them he intended they 
should continue the “ pious custom ” of confessing, 
that they were consecrated virgins,” whatever 
any ignorant bishop might say to the contrary ; 


520 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


however, until the episcopal bench improved in 
its religious views,” they must be satisfied with 
the omissions in the rule. But as they knew it well 
by this time, they could remember what had been 
omitted and think of it occasionally. The same 
bishop had also objected to prayers for the dead, 
and as a matter of respect to this view,” the Doc- 
tor likewise ordained that when they occurred in 
the office they should not be said out loud, but only 
mentally recited. The Doctor was very strong on 
the subject of episcopal authority and the faith of 
his pure reformed church.* And this is a fair 
specimen of his view ” of obedience to his ap- 
pointed guides. 

This life was by no means a happy one. A num- 
ber of persons living together, with different dis- 
positions, can scarcely agree, unless there be some 
tie stronger than a unity of wish for a common end. 
It is true, mutual amiability or good-breeding might 
hinder much exterior manifestation of dislike or 
disruption, but there was a perpetual under-current 
of little piques or ill-suppressed aversions. Besides, 
what was there to make such a life happy or en- 
durable? They had parted with all that was dear- 
est and most attractive in domestic life, and what 
had they received in exchange ? A few bare and 

* Facts. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


521 


lifeless forms and a portion of the exterior garb of 
a religious ; an altar, without a sacrifice ; a guide, 
without authority ; a home that might or might 
not be permanent ; a religious belief disowned, nay 
loudly condemned, by the great majority of the 
church to which they professed to belong. Doubt, 
uncertainty, an uneasy present, and a gloomy 
future, were scarcely the elements to form a life of 
peace and joy. \ 

It was an accident, as we observed before, that 
Miss Langdale did not adopt the despotic form of 
government ; but there was no reason why any 
future superior might not do so. When Doctor 
Humbletone died, what would become of them? 
It was a question often anxiously asked, and by no 
means easily answered. If they were tolerated by 
their Mother, the Church, it was simply because 
she had no right to interfere with them. Who, 
then, was to be their ultimate guide and pro- 
tector ? 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

“ Let the Abbot take special care of the flock committed to his 
charge. . . Let him remember that he has undertaken to be the 
guide of weak and infirm souls, and not to exercise a rigid, tyran- 
nic sway over those that are strong and vigorous/* 

— Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter xxvii. 

HE regulations of Miss Dobbs’ establish- 
ment had been something similar to those 
of Christ Church House when she first 
began her executive career. But her mind was too 
restless and ambitious to be satisfied with anything 
ordinary. Almost every month some new plan of 
work was undertaken. She had orphan boys and 
orphan girls, old men and old women, sailors and 
soldiers, lodging houses and libraries in turn, until 
her funds were exhausted, and even her most ar- 
dent admirers began to complain of the way in 
which their money was expended. After having 
wasted as much as would have built and endowed 
a hospital for three or four hundred patients, she 
( 5 ^ 2 ) 



HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 


523 

turned her mind to the domestic arrangements of 
her establishment. 

To have copied the rules or imitated the regula- 
tions of a Catholic convent, would have been far 
too ordinary a proceeding for a person of her im- 
portance. To reform suited her better, and she 
anxiously cast her eyes around to find something 
suitable to her purpose. 

While musing on the important subject, it sud- 
denly occurred to her that she had been born on 
the Feast of St. Dunstan. It was an inspiring 
thought. She would call her new order Dunstan- 
ines. How glorious it would sound in future ages 
to hear of the English Dunstanines, founded by 
Jemima Dobbs ! Alas for the name ! it was her 
most serious, her greatest trial ; but there was no 
remedy, and she was obliged to brave a fate she 
could not avert. 

Her next care was to write a rule for her order, 
and in order to transmit the precious relic inviolate 
to posterity, sheets of the finest vellum were pre- 
pared, on which the lady’s lucubrations were duly 
and most legibly inscribed by her own fine hand. 
When signed and sealed, the sheets were attached 
to a ponderous leaden roller, and for still greater 
security deposited in a large coffer of oak, clasped 
with iron, and double locked. With trembling awe 


524 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


it was from time to time brought forth and perused 
by a favored few. But, though it was circulated 
industriously in the society, that dearest mother had 
discovered after she wrote it that it corresponded 
almost to a word to the ancient rule of St. Bene- 
dict, neither Miss Stapleton nor Gertrude Hel- 
more had been able to discern anything very won- 
derful in it. The former had an opportunity of 
reading the Benedictine rule some years later, and 
positively averred that the similarity was undis- 
coverable, and that no two documents could have 
been more unlike. But the rule and its ponderous 

box were not the only objects in the oratory at 

which excited the curiosity of new comers. A 
giant cross occupied the upper end, but, like the 
life of the sisters, it was void of that which alone 
can give efficacy or value to its wood. A cross 
without Christ is, indeed, of all sorrows, the most 
sorrowful. A life of penance and renunciation 
of all that earth can give of affection or plea- 
sure, is indeed weary and desolate, when Chiist 
is not there to cheer the solitude, to more than 
compensate for the separation from friends and 
home. 

Truly the large cold cross was a fit accompani- 
ment for all the rest. It was form without life, 
ceremony wdthout meaning, suffering without re- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 525 

ward. It was a depressing object, and to some al- 
most a painful one. 

At one side of the large apartment there was a 
small altar; but it was rarely noticed, and still 
more rarely used ; never, indeed, except when the 
lady mother required the communion service to be 
said there on the plea of sickness. And it was often 
remarked by her children that, while her illness 
never prevented her from long journeys, or inter- 
fered with Dr. Humbletone’s frequent visits, it 
was always alleged as an excuse for her non-appear- 
ance at church, and was the only reason given 
why for several years she had not been known to 
enter a place of worship. It was a strange mani- 
festation of devotion to the church of her baptism, 
which her party were always so earnest to incul- 
cate. 

Another object of interest in the oratory was a 
basin and ewer of unusual size, evidently intended 
for some religious purpose. They were of the 
finest china, and marked over with the passion 
flower and leaves in strong relief. Gertrude did 
not know, until her conversation with Eliza Rogers, 
the purpose for which they were intended. She 
was then informed that Miss Dobbs intended, at 
some future time, to perform the ceremony of 
washing the feet of the sisters on' Maundy Thurs- 


526 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


day. No doubt it was pleasing to contemplate an 
act of humiliation in perspective; but the reality 
had not as yet appeared sufficiently attractive to 
be carried into execution. 

It is very romantic and agreeable to some minds 
to imagine themselves perambulating a cloister by 
the pale rays of a December moon, while the 
sound of a distant bell summonses the inmates of the 
sacred abode to a chapel where the pealing organ 
utters soul-stirring strains and the choir pour forth 
floods of melody which midnight and solitude 
combine to picture as seraphic. It is by no means 
romantic, and certainly by no means agreeable to 
human nature, to be startled from slumber, after a 
day of toilsome, self-denying occupation, on a cold 
winter’s night, and to descend then and there, not 
through romantic cloisters, but through ordinary, 
and perhaps badly lighted passages, to a cold 
chapel where — ah ! but there is something in that 
chapel for which slumber would be foregone with 
more than joy ; for which weariness would be 
borne with more than patience ; for which the nun 
has pined so that even the remembrance of it has 
hallowed her rest or tinged the current of her 
sleeping thoughts. Hers is no romantic or senti- 
mental religion ; it is a religion of realities and of 
sacrifice, for it is a religion of truth and love. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


527 


Without truth there can be no reality ; and love 
that knows not how to sacrifice itself for the Be- 
loved is scarcely worthy of the name. 

A religious worship, revealed by the Creator, 
must be beautiful, since it emanates from the source 
of Eternal Beauty ; it must have its attractions for 
the human imagination, since all the faculties of the 
soul are destined to honor and glorify the Creator 
of those faculties ; but the beauty of the King’s 
daughter is within. Alas! for those who strive to 
possess themselves of her exterior ornaments, which 
serve only to show her hidden glories, but were 
never intended as a substitute for them. May we 
be pardoned a brief digression while we say a few 
words about the life of a nun. 

The Protestant idea of that life is simply this : 
that some individuals of a romantic turn of mind, 
who have either been crossed in love by death or 
accident, or are weary of life from some reverse or 
disappointment, enter a convent, not from any de- 
sire for the kind of life it offers, but from a morbid 
feeling of melancholy which they imagine can be 
indulged there. That such individuals should be- 
come selfish, misanthrophic, gloomy and ill-tem- 
pered, in fact rather worse than the worst speci- 
mens of those most calumniated individuals, old 
maids, is only what should be expected under such 


528 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

circumstances, that they should dream away a 
useless life, in brooding over past sorrows and 
the trifling grievances incident to daily life in any 
place or position of society, equally natural ; and 
that in their old age they should tyrannize over 
younger companions, entrapped by their arts to 
these abodes of misery, only a necessary conse- 
quence of such antecedents. 

Such is truly the Protestant idea of what is 
termed, in the Catholic church, religious life. 
And what is the reality ? If our readers doubt our 
assertion, let them investigate the matter for them- 
selves. Visit the nearest convent, and ask to see 
any or all of the religious belonging to the estab- 
lishment, and inquire from them individually or 
collectively, whether our statement is correct. A 
religious life, then, is, in simple words, the acting 
out of a desire which, perhaps, many times has 
made itself felt, even in the hearts of those who 
peruse these pages — it is living a life wholly for 
God. St. Paul has said that the unwedded care 
for the Lord, and seek how they may please Him ; 
Christ Himself says of the call to virginity, Let 
him receive it who is able C ^^d the beloved dis- 
ciple in the Apocalyptic vision, tells us of a new 
song and a special nearness to the Virgin Lamb re- 
served for undefiled and virgin souls. Now if a 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


529 


Protestant could lay aside the prejudices of early 
education for a few moments, and place himself in 
the position of a Catholic who believes this, and 
who feels that God has called him or her to walk in 
this glorious path, it would not, perhaps, be so diffi- 
cult to believe that a young girl could reject the 
most illustrious alliance this world could offer to 
be the Bride of the spotless Lamb. 

But what if she also looks on earth and all earth- 
ly pleasures as a passing dream ? What if she so 
realizes eternity as to think that preparation for it 
is her wisest, as well as her holiest course ? What 
if she literally takes our Divine Lord's words even 
as He spoke them, and believes that He will count 
as done unto Himself every act of charity which is 
done unto the poor? What if in clothing the 
naked she believes she covers Him ? What if in feed- 
ing the poor she believes that she feeds Him ? What 
if in instructing the ignorant she believes that the 
Eternal Wisdom counts her action as if she had 
taught Himself those elements of human learning 
of which He condescended to appear ignorant ? 
And what if her love was so great that she could 
not be content to do these things in measure ? What 
if she could not be content to give a little out of 
her plenty, an hour from her worldly pleasures 
or occupations that would be a duty if she re- 

23 


530 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


mained with her family? What, ah! what, if she 
wished to be all for God and to give all to God ? 
Can you, will you blame her ? And such is, in 
truth, the life of a religious. It is not all who are 
called to it ; it would not be right for all to embrace 
it. Our Lord chose twelve apostles only as his 
immediate successors ; and He desired only one 
rich young man to give his all to the poor if he 
would be perfect. Our Divine Lord has himself 
plainly taught the lesson that some are called to a 
perfection that is not required from others, and 
that those who do not correspond with that call 
peril their soul's eternal welfare. 

But there are persons who can understand the 
active part of the life of a sister of charity, who 
ask, But why all these rules ? Why this obedi- 
ence to the will of another — must it not lead to 
tyranny and injustice? Why this enclosure, this 
separation from the world — must it not lead to 
gloom and melancholy?" A person who knew 
anything of a nun’s life would simply smile at such 
questions. Nuns are notoriously the most cheerful 
and the happiest people in the world. Not because 
they have become almost imbecile from their mode 
of life ; not because they are half fools by nature, 
or by force of circumstances ; but because their 
life is holy, and holiness is peace, and peace is the 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


531 


mother of joy. The holiest nun will always be the 
happiest member of her community. And why ? 
Simply because holiness is a gift of God ; and the 
more a soul possesses of God, the more joyous it 
becomes, for it approaches so much the nearer to 
the fount of unending beatitude. Sin is the only 
real cause or occasion of misery. And how can 
the}- who are daily more and more purified from it 
be otherwise than happy ? Obedience can be no 
trial to those who wish to obey that they may be- 
come more like Him who, though He was a son, 
yet learned obedience by the things which He suf- 
fered ; and tyranny or injustice there cannot be, 
since every nun or monk has it in their power to 
choose their superior, and if he proves unworthy 
of his trust, his superiors can be appealed to for 
remedy. There are no self-constituted authorities 
in the Catholic church, who can act independently 
of all rule save their own caprice ; and the lowest 
religious is protected from oppression, should it 
ever exist, by power and opportunity of appeal to 
his Bishop and other ecclesiastical superiors. But 
those who thus misunderstand this lifp would smile, 
or, it may be, would grieve at their vain fancies if 
they knew that, so far from appeals against oppres- 
sion and tyranny, the fear of a religious often is, 
lest the superior, who has shown more than pater- 


532 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


nal wisdom, and more than maternal tenderness, 
should be too deeply loved ; lest gratitude should 
extend itself beyond the limits prescribed for hu- 
man affection, and lest any portion, however insig- 
nificant, of the love which should be bestowed on 
the Creator alone, should be given to the creature. 
Truly it is difficult not to love too much where so 
much occasion for love is given ; and difficult to 
love as we may and ought those who guide us in 
the ways of God, without loving selfishly or in 
excess. 

“ But this enclosure, this separation from the 
world, why is this necessary ? Does it not tend to 
melancholy and gloom ?” Why do persons who 
wish to carry on business together find it neces- 
sary to live in the same establishment ? Why even 
in collegiate houses must the fellows* be resident, 
and the tutors always at their posts ? The question 
answers itself. Unity is strength ; and they who 
are devoted to a common purpose succeed best by 
joining their forces for the one end. ‘‘ But the 
gloom, the depression, the useless life, the separa- 
tion from home, the family ties broken, the good 
that might be done m the world ?’' Well, if family 
ties were never broken, there might be some 
ground for complaint ; if any individual was ever 
known to give up his whole time to God in the 


533 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

world, as nuns do in the cloister, there might be 
something said about the good to be done in the 
world ; if a dying, aged, or dependent relative 
was forsaken, and one duty neglected to fulfill an- 
other, or rather, a commandment sinned against to 
comply with a counsel, there might be ground for 
dreading even the existence of a nunnery, lest 
such calamities should occur. But if our sons and 
daughters may, for business or pleasure, for gain 
or matrimony, leave us for India or America, with- 
out charge of undutifulness, and with our earnest ap- 
probation and fervent, though it may be sorrowful, 
blessing, may they not be free to leave us for God 
and eternity, if He mercifully calls them to do so ? 

There is a power which we cannot resist ; there 
is a stern call which beckons from us the nearest 
and dearest with resistless force. We must yield 
our treasures when death demands them ; and 
perhaps there are few convents whose superior 
could not tell of more than one chosen soul refused 
to the cloister by the blind and selfish love of pa- 
rents, and taken in a few short months or years 
afterwards, either in mercy or judgment, by Him 
whose call they had dared to frustrate. How 
much happier would a free and generous offer- 
ing, even of the most treasured flower, have made 
those poor parents both here and hereafter. 


534 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


It is true, the life of a religious is a life of sacri- 
fice, and there cannot be sacrifice without suffering. 
But again we say, her life is a happy one. What 
was the life of Christ on earth but one continued 
suffering? There was homelessness at Bethlehem; 
there was fasting and hunger in the wilderness; 
there was toil in the carpenter’s workshop ; there 
was weariness in teaching the people ; there was 
cold in the long night’s prayer on the mountain 
side ; there was loneliness and solitude of heart, 
for where could a God find sympathy or friendship 
on earth ? there was desertion by friends, and be- 
trayal by disciples ; and there was the anguish of 
every anguish doubled as it was seen to pierce 
the soul loved as only a God-man could love, the 
soul of His Immaculate Mother. And yet, who 
can tell, who may imagine to themselves, the un- 
speakable beatitude of the second Person of the 
Ever Blessed Trinity ? 

Those who do not recognize the great truth that 
sacrifice is an essential part of religious worship, 
must necessarily misunderstand a life based on that 
principle. Their idea is that, because Christ has 
suffered, they are not to suffer, and poor human 
nature eagerly catches at the pleasing theory, rang- 
ing, according to the natural disposition or provi- 
dential circumstances of the individual, from a life 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


535 


\ 

of ^aily ease and self-indulgence to the unbridled 
licentiousness to which such a doctrine, if carried 
out, must lead. Such persons look on all suffering, 
whether voluntary or involuntary, as a simple evil. 
To bea\j' with patience the afflictions they cannot 
avert, with a gloomy resignation to God’s will, is 
their utmost stretch of virtue. The conduct of 
those who speak of suflFering as something to be 
sought for, to be desired, to be rejoiced in, is to 
them, at best, an inexplicable enigma. They can- 
not understand that a person, who might live sur- 
rounded with all the enjoyments of earth, could 
willingly and freely renounce them, and make a 
life of poverty, self-denial and humiliation their 
deliberate choice ; and, as they cannot understand 
the motive, they have no resource but to misinter- 
pret the act, and to explain it on such principles as 
are suited to their own comprehension. 

Perhaps they may^ find it hard to understand 
why our Divine Lord chose a life of -humiliation 
and suffering, when He might have chosen one of 
glory and repose. Perhaps they may never have 
meditated on the amount of agony He endured 
for us, when one drop of His most Precious blood 
would have been sufficient to redeem a thousand 
worlds. Perhaps they have never seriously reflected 
that our eternal damnation would not for a mo- 


5 36 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 

ment have disturbed the beatitude of the God- 
head, and that, if the Redeemer of mankind en- 
dured unheard of torments, he might have effected 
our salvation without them, or have left us to perish 
without diminishing aught of His blessed repose 
in the bosom of His Eternal Father. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Mother ! whose virgin bosom was uncurst 
With the least shade of thought to sin allied ; 

Woman ! above all women glorified, 

Our tainted nature's solitary boast.” — Wordsworth. 

NE of Mr. Langdale’s first anxieties, after 
his return to London, was to have some 
communication with Miss Rossmore. 
But this desire was by no means easily accom- 
plished. He felt it would be imprudent to write 
to her, situated as she was; and even if his letter 
caused her no domestic annoyance, it might hinder 
further intercourse if Dr. Humbletone was made 
acquainted with its purport, and such he could 



HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


537 

not doubt, from former experience, would be the 
case. 

There was no resource but prayer and patience. 
How often, in similar circumstances, have they 
not proved more effectual than the wisest plans or 
the most earnest entreaties ! That Catherine Ross- 
more would become more and more Catholic in 
her religious views he never for a moment doubted. 
How could it be otherwise with an earnest, consci- 
entious mind ? His only fear was lest the depres- 
sion of spirits, so natural and so unavoidable after 
the heavy trial she had experienced, would lead 
her to embrace the life of a Protestant sister, and 
thus render her conversion more doubtful, as she 
would be excluded from all knowledge of what 
was passing in the world, and surrounded by influ- 
ences most prejudicial to the development of her 
mental powers. He soon ascertained, however, 
that there was no cause for immediate apprehen- 
sion on this subject, though he learned, with deep 
regret, that her health, which was daily giving 
way more and more, was probably the reason why 
she was not urged to this step. They had no mu- 
tual friends, or he would have endeavored to pro- 
cure an interview with her ; but Providence inter- 
fered when he least expected it. 

In the dusk of a winters afternoon, Katie had 


538 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


stolen timidly into a Catholic book-shop. Her ex- 
cuse was to purchase a few pictures of those saints 
whom her party professed so much to admire at a dis- 
tance. Her real object, though she scarcely dared 
own it even to herself, was to speak, if only for once, 
to a real Catholic, and to obtain some information 
about a faith which at once attracted and repelled 
her. As she turned over the packages offered for 
her selection, she endeavored to open a conversa- 
tion with the person who attended her, but the 
good woman did not suspect her object, and imag- 
ining her customer was a Catholic, made no remark 
that in any way invited further confidence. Katie 
paid for her purchases, and was about to leave the 
shop, even more depressed and dejected than the 
occasion warranted, when, to her dismay, she saw 
several gentlemen enter the apartment. To escape 
unseen was impossible ; to be detected in such a 
place by even the most distant acquaintance, 
though in a land of civil and religious liberty, 
she dreaded beyond measure. How fervently she 
wished she had never dared so rash a step! Like a 
guilty criminal, she trembled from head to foot, and 
looked hopelessly at the door. There the gentle- 
men stood, conversing earnestly together, and ap- 
parently quite unconscious of the misery they were 
inflicting. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


539 


To pass them without being seen was impossible ; 
but she hoped they were strangers, and that the 
dim light would favor her escape. In less time 
than we have taken to describe her feelings, a re- 
solution was taken, and she walked rapidly and de- 
cidedly to the door. One of the gentlemen turned 
to allow her to pass; at the same moment the 
street lamp was lighted, and its glaring blaze fell 
full upon her face; but she had scarcely time to 
feel conscious of the additional annoyance, when a 
voice well-known and well-remembered, exclaimed 
earnestly : 

Miss Rossmore ! Katie ! Impossible ! '' 

She extended her hand mechanically to Mr. 
Langdale ; but the previous excitement and the 
sudden shock of meeting him was too much for her, 
and she would have fallen back insensible, had he 
not noticed her deadly palor, and put her gently on 
a chair. In a moment, the woman who had served 
her was at her side, and in a most gentle and moth- 
erly tone entreated her to come into the little 
parlor behind her shop. Katie had no choice but 
compliance ; she w^as too weak to make any serious 
effort, and felt painfully the presence of Mr. Lang- 
dale’s friends. 

I will leave you for a moment,'’ said Mr. Lang- 
dale, when he had seen her seated in an arm-chair 


540 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


near Mrs. Wilson’s fire. We must have a long 
conversation when you are able for it, and mean- 
while I will tell my son and Mr. Mordaunt that 
they had better not wait for me. They are going 
to dine at Lord Errington’s this evening, and I 
fear if they delay longer they will be late, as he 
keeps rather earlier hours than are fashionable at 
present.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Langdale, I am sure you were going 
too ; pray do not stay with me ! ” There was 
something so like Katie’s old, earnest tone in the 
way she spoke, that Mr. Langdale could not help 
smiling with pleasure. 

I will tell you the truth, Katie,” he replied, I 
was going ; but I intend to stay with you now, as 
long as you will let me. Indeed,” he continued, earn- 
estly, seeing she was about to expostulate once 
more — Indeed, you will pain me very much if you 
oblige me to leave you.” 

There was something in his manner she could 
not resist, so she offered no further opposition, and 
even accepted some refreshment which Mrs. Wil- 
son had most thoughtfully and kindly prepared for 
her while they were conversing. The good woman 
was a widow, and though she had a tolerably ex- 
tensive business, she was by no means rich. How 
could she be while there were so many poor around. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


541 


who needed all she could spare from her personal 
necessities? A small store of wine was kept for 
their use, though rarely touched by herself, and she 
was very glad indeed to have an opportunity now 
of offering some to Katie, who really appeared in 
great need of some stimulant. Katie was surprised 
at her thoughtful charity. Now that she perceived a 
need for speech and action, she appeared to for- 
get her apparent reserve or shyness in anxiety 
to do all that could be done for the poor young 
lady who looked so ill, and even reproached her- 
self seriouslj^ that she had not asked her to rest 
sooner. 

In a few moments, Mr. Langdale returned, and 
once more he and his former parishoner had a long 
and deeply interesting conversation. What changes 
had occurred since they last met ! 

And is Mr. Mordaunt also preparing to be a 
priest? ” enquired Katie, when a momentary pause 
had occurred in the conversation. '' Poor Ger- 
trude ! how little she knows of all this ! 

It is sad to think of her, indeed,’' replied Mr. 
Langdale, '‘but we must hope and pray. Who 
would have thought we should have met each 
other in this most unexpected way ! We must trust 
God more for ourselves and for those we love. 
They who are in Plis keeping are very safe, and 


542 


HORNE HURST RECTORY, 


surely He will never allow an earnest, humble soul 
to wander long in the mazes of error.” 

Katie sighed, and looked so pained, that fora mo- 
ment Mr. Langdale regretted what he had said. 
He seemed so changed, so unlike the Mr. Langdale 
of former days ! The bent head was erect ; the se- 
date manner, almost gay ; the always kind smile, no 
longer sad, but bright and cheerful. 

‘‘You are greatly changed, Mr. Langdale,” said 
Katie, abruptly, and almost reproachfully. 

“You will change, too, Katie, by and by, or I 
am very much mistaken. Believe me,” he con- 
tinued, “ when you have exchanged shadows for 
realities, and imitations of the Faith for the Faith 
itself, you will not be inclined to take a dismal view 
of life. There is too much sunshine within the 
fold to permit gloomy nooks for grief to hide in. 
But it is no wonder that those who are seeking 
and not finding, or those who are determined not 
to seek, should feel depressed and weary. God 
alone knows the misery of a life of perpetual strug- 
gle between conviction and human respect or in- 
tellectual pride.” 

“ And who will venture to say,” interrupted 
Katie, in her most haughty manner, “ that Dr. 
Humbletone is influenced by either? And yet he 
does not see things as you do ; and, except the great 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


543 


Doctor of Christ Church, Oxford, who has been so 
forward in promoting Catholic practices, or in ur- 
ging us to remain steadfast in our church?” 

I judge no one,” replied Mr. Langdalo, gently. 

I only know what I once thought and felt myself. 
We are, comparatively, old friends, Katie ; and 
once you had some respect for my advice. I have 
no right to offer it now, but I must ever feel an in- 
terest, and a very deep interest, in your welfare, 
for your own sake, and for hers who was so dear to 
us both. If you were a Protestant in heart, as you 
really are in name, whatever you may call your- 
self, I would not speak as I do ; if your happiness 
was a matter of less interest to me, or if you were 
only a mere acquaintance, my interference would 
be an impertinence ; but as it is, I feel it a duty to 
speak, whatever pain my words may give.” He 
paused a moment for a reply, and as his lips moved 
in prayer, Katie caught the words Ave Maria!' 
She had felt strangely annoyed and irritated before, 
but now she felt positively disgusted. ‘‘ And so 
he has stooped to this idolatry, too !” she murmured, 
half to herself and half aloud, and then continued, 
addressing Mr. Langdale : I can understand now, 
Mr. Langdale, why Dr. Humbletone is so anxious 
to guard us against devotion to the Virgin Mary, 
and why he speaks so much of the deterioration of 


544 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


converts. Oh, is it possible that you can worship 
her as Roman Catholics do ?” 

Mr. Lang^dale smiled quietly. My dear Katie, 
^worshiping’ the mother of Jesus, as you call it, 
has nothing to do with the all-important question 
for you and for me. Are we members of the one 
true, holy Apostolic church ? It is vain and foolish 
to argue about questions of discipline or practice, 
until we have settled this one great question. And 
when we have settled it, all the rest follows as a 
necessary consequence. Is there a church insti- 
tuted by Christ Himself with which He has prom- 
ised that His spirit shall abide, leading it unto all 
truth ? Or is each one to form a religious belief 
for himself on his ever varying opinion of Scrip- 
ture ? You will say that there is a church; that 
God has not left His creatures in uncertainty as to 
what they are to believe, or whom they are to 
obey. The question for you, then, is. Where is that 
church? And, oh, my dear Katie, beware how 
you put it from you, or how you answer it lightly ! 
Even if salvation were not at stake, could we do 
less for a God who has died to save us from eter- 
nal misery, than earnestly to seek to know His will, 
and at any cost to obey His call ?” 

“ But, Mr. Langdale, it is so hard to be certain. 
Once 3^ou would have told me that I was safe if I 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


545 


listened to the priests of my church — if I obeyed 
those who had the rule over me ; once you have told 
me it was a sin to inquire and to question ; and 
now it is so hard to know who to believe.’' 

She paused, but Mr. Langdale thankfully noticed 
that her manner was softened and her tone more 
gentle. He did not reply for a moment, and as 
Katie glanced timidly at him to ascertain the cause 
of his silence, she saw an expression of pain on his 
face, and she rightly guessed its cause. 

Oh, Mr. Langdale, I am so sorry I have given 
you pain by my thoughtless words ! Indeed I wish 
I had never uttered them.” 

I deserve it, Katie, and more. God in hfs 
mercy grant that my sin may not be an occasion 
of eternal loss to others ! Katie,, you can under- 
stand now why I am so anxious, so painfully anx- 
ious about you, and all whom I have at any time 
guided in spiritual things. Oh, Katie ! neither you 
nor they had the opportunities of knowledge that 
I had, and you cannot know how heavily this 
thought presses on me at times.” 

Neither spoke for some time. At last, Katie 
remembered how late it was, and rose to return 
home. Oh, Mr. Langdale, if I could only be sure ; 
if I could only know what I ought to do !” 

“ * Ask and you shall receive ; seek and you shall 


546 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


find ; knock and it shall be opened unto you/ 
Katie, you know these words well. Why do we 
not receive, but because we ask amiss ? And can we 
doubt, if we prayed with sincere and earnest hearts, 
that God would answer in our inmost souls the great 
question. What is truth ? But, oh ! let us beware how 
we put the question from us in impatience, or in fear, 
lest the answer should bring suffering and demand 
sacrifice. Far be it from me to urge you^to take a 
step for which you are as yet unprepared. But, 
Katie, you have doubts, and you are bound to in- 
quire until they are satisfied. I know the position 
you are in. I can feel, as a convert, perhaps, only 
can, for the difficulties you must encounter. Par- 
don me for urging you so strongly, but you can 
scarcely understand how much may depend upon 
the way in which you act at the present moment. 
If from any human motive or human fear, you 
crush or stifle the inspirations that are gently lead- 
ing you, perhaps they may never return again. I 
have seen such cases. I have known instances 
where conviction has almost amounted to certain- 
ty, and where the conviction has been smothered 
or trifled away, until the grace was lost, and the 
soul became more than ever confirmed in error. 
My advice, my earnest entreaty to you is to en- 
quire calmly and dispassionately. You know that 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


547 


I have had some considerable experience of the 
views and opinions of your party, and from that 
experience I more than suspect that you, like many 
others, while you love many Catholic practices, 
are really as ignorant as a Protestant usually is of 
Catholic doctrines. I will leave one or two books 
here for you early to-morrow, and if you will see 
an old friend once more I will meet you here in a 
few days.’' 

“ I would like it, Mr. Langdale,” replied Katie, 
though even as she spoke there was an expression 
of pain and doubt in her face. ‘‘ Surely,” she 
added, as if to re-assure herself; ‘‘surely, it cannot 
be wrong to enquire.” 

“ If it was wrong to enquire, Katie,” said Mr. 
Langdale, smiling, “ the world would never have 
been converted from heathenism, nor the Jews to 
Christianity. But it is natural the High Church 
party should dread inquiry when they must have 
such misgivings as to the result. Remember, 
Katie,” he continued, seriously, as he handed her 
into a cab, which Mrs. Wilson had called while they 
were conversing, “remember each of us must give 
account for himself 2X the last day, and woe to us if 
we try to throw the responsibility of our belief on 
others, or if we allow them to usurp the very right 
of the Spirit of Truth itself!” 



CHAPTER XL. 

“ A fact or argument is not stronger in its own nature by being 
repeated, but the effect on the mind is stronger. This then is what 
the perpetual talk against Catholicism is doing against it in Eng- 
land ; the clatter does not become truer because it is incessant ; but 
it continually deepens the impression in the minds of those who 
read it, that Catholicism is an imposture.” — Newman’s Lectures, 

ATHERINE, you are late this evening/' 
observed Lady Rossmore, enquiringly, as 
her daughter entered the dining-room some 
moments after grace had been said. 

Miss Rossmore did not usually vouchsafe much 
information ■ about her movements to the home 
circle, but on this occasion, as guests were present, 
she replied, quietly, I was not aware that it was 
so late, mamma. I met an old friend unexpectedly, 
and was detained longer than I anticipated.” 

I suppose I need scarcely inquire who it was,” 
observed Dr. Thundertone. ‘‘ Your friends and ours 
can scarcely be a matter of interest to each other.” 

The sarcastic tone in which he spoke aroused 
Miss Rossmore’s indignation, and without reflect- 
(548) 




HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


549 


ing on the personal annoyance likely to follow such 
a disclosure, she replied : I doubt whether you will 
be interested in the information, Dr. Thundertone, 
but the friend whom I had the pleasure of seeing 
this afternoon is Mr. Langdale, who has lately re- 
turned from the continent, and is, I believe, pre- 
paring for the priesthood.” 

The effect produced by this announcement was 
electrical. Miss Moses Thundertone, who was 
sitting beside Miss Rossmore, drew her chair and 
herself as close to her next neighbor as possible, to 
avoid contamination ; while Miss Aaron, who had 
never before, to her knowledge at least, seen any 
individual who had spoken to a Papist, actually 
stared in astonished dismay, as if anticipating that 
the mark of the beast,” of which she had heard 
so much on different public occasions, must be visi- 
ble somewhere on the countenance of the individual 
who apparently had so little horror of that much 
dreaded quadruped. 

Sir Timothy Tadpole let his knife and fork fall, 
and in endeavoring to recover them upset his plate, 
to the serious detriment of Lady Rossmore’s moire 
antique. Lady Tadpole turned first very pale and 
then very red ; while Mr. Shields resolved then and 
there, to retire from her ladyship’s hospitable board 
as early as was consistent with good manners and 


SSo 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


satisfying the cravings of nature, in order to pre- 
pare a special article on the alarming progress of 
Popery, which he considered would be more inter- 
esting than a case of death from starvation, in con- 
sequence of the ejection of tenants in Ireland, who 
refused the pure word of God, and which was al- 
ready in type. 

For some moments no one spoke. But the sub- 
ject was too interesting and important for a plat- 
form orator, or an Evangelical editor to lose sight 
of it. 

‘‘You are mistaken. Miss Rossmore,’' replied Dr. 
Thundertone, with an air of commiserating polite- 
ness ; “you are mistaken. We are interested in 
Mr. Langdale’s movements ; very much so, in- 
deed,'' he continued, glancing significantly at Mr. 
Shields. “ May I enquire if he informed you where 
he is residing, or how long he intends to remain in 
London ?" 

Catherine was by this time fully aware how much 
harm she might do by making further disclosures ; 
and in fact she had none to make, for it had never 
occurred to her to ask where Mr. Langdale was 
staying, or any particulars about his future plans. 
So she replied, quietly : “ I regret I cannot give you 
the information you wish for, Dr. Thundertone, as I 
made no inquiries on the subject," and then turned 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


551 


to Lady Tadpole and endeavored to engage her in 
conversation. As the party was small, however, it 
was impossible to avoid general conversation, and 
Dr. Thundertone, who of late had begun a system 
of persecution as painful as it was ungentlemanly, 
determined to pursue the subject. 

May I help you to grouse. Miss Rossmore ? It 
is not a fast day, I believe ; but really I do not 
know, I am so ignorant on those subjects. Sir 
Timothy, you are a better churchman than I. 
What says the Prayer-Book?’' 

A remnant of Popery, Dr. Thundertone !” re- 
plied the baronet; a lean -looking young man he 
was, too, with a sanctimonious countenance and a 
thin face, suggesting the idea that he could live on 
a snipe a week, and would be none the fatter if he 
consumed a leg of mutton per diem. 

“ Awful times !” chimed in Mr. Shields. The 
remark was vague ; but Mr. Shields’ remarks were 
generally vague. 

/ always suspect a person of a leaning to Popery 
when I see them observing times and seasons, and 
laying stress upon carnal ordinances, which,” he ob- 
served, as he helped himself to the last remnant 
of the grouse, which. Miss Rossmore, fasting cer- 
tainly is.” 

‘‘I am quite aware,” replied Katie, who was ad- 


552 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


dressed too pointedly to escape replying, I am 
quite aware fasting is not a Protestant custom, 
r believe they object to self-denial in any form.*’ 

Are you not a Protestant, Miss Rossmore ?” in- 
quired Sir Timothy, somewhat timidly. He Telt 
curious to know what she considered herself, and 
anxious, in spite of a certain degree of bashfulness 
which he always felt when in presence of the great 
Doctor, to draw her out. 

Catherine was perplexed. '^Was she a Protes- 
tant?” It was a difficult query to answer, and a 
very unpleasant one. Certainly she was not a Ro- 
man Catholic. What then could she be, but a pro- 
tester against Popery ? If not to the full amount of 
an Exeter Hall audience, at least she protested by 
act as long as she remained separate from that 
church. 

I am not a Roman Catholic, Sir Timothy !” re- 
plied Katie, coldly. It was her only resource, and 
by no means the one she would have chosen, had 
others been available. 

But is it a fast day?” enquired Dr. Thunder- 
tone, pertinaciously. He knew ver}^ well it was ; 
for looking in the almanac by accident that morn- 
ing, he discovered that it was the first week in Lent. 

It is the first week in Lent,” replied Miss Ross- 


more. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


553 


‘‘ Then, may I inquire why you do not fast, 
Katie observed Lady Rossmore. I really can- 
not understand your religion. At one time you 
would not go out to a dinner-party on Friday, no 
matter how much I wished it, because you would 
not eat meat, and feared, even if you did not, you 
might be infected by partaking of anything pre- 
pared from animal food ; and now I see you eating 
as much as any one else, and taking whatever is at 
table ! Really, my dear, your religion is most 
incomprehensible !’' 

Poor Catherine was more than ever at a loss for 
a reply. Her health had been very delicate for 
the last twelve-month, and Dr. Humbletone had 
desired her positively not to pass a day without 
partaking of animal food. But how could she 
make this announcement in public! Would not 
the question be asked at once, what right had he 
to direct her in such matters ? And what reply 
could she make to such an inquiry ? If the ques- 
tion had been why she obeyed, she could have 
answered that it was because she believed it her 
duty to submit in all things to her spiritual guide ; 
but it was quite another matter to give a reason 
for his right to direct. 

The baronet's lady saw the painful position in 
v\rhich the daughter of her hostess was placed ; 

24 


554 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


she had always liked Katie, and respected a firm- 
ness of principle which she had not had the courage 
to imitate. 

“ Perhaps Miss Rossmore is too delicate to fast 
now,’' she observed kindly ; and then turning to 
Katie, she added : ‘‘ I wish you would come to us 
for a while ; I am sure the country air would do 
you good.” 

Katie thanked her by a grateful look and a sad 
smile, and at the same moment Lady -Rossmore 
rose to leave the dining-room, and saved her 
daughter from further annoyance.. 

It was long past midnight, and still Catherine 
Rossmore prayed and wept. She had never before 
experienced a night of such mental anguish. 
Everything seemed dark, confused and doubtful, 
until at last she was tempted to think that truth 
could never be known on earth, and that it was 
useless to attempt to seek for it. She knew it was 
right to fast and abstain, though scarcely aware 
of the distinction between the two, and without 
the most remote idea on what principle they are 
regulated or dispensed with in the Catholic Church. 
But practically the question of limit to this duty 
was a most perplexing one to her. She read the 
table of the vigils, fasts and days of abstinence in 
the prayer-book again and again, and felt no wiser. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


555 


Did a vigil and a fast day mean the same thing ? 
and why put days of fasting, or abstinence ? Were 
fasting and abstinence synonymous terms, or did 
fasting imply abstinence ? If fasting on those days 
was required by the church, why was it not gen- 
erally practised, and what right had Dr. Humble- 
tone to give her permission, or, rather, to desire 
her not to fast? The question of his right to give 
dispensation had never pressed on her mind before. 
But now it startled her strangely, and opened a 
new and most perplexing field of thought. Oh, 
for certainty !” she exclaimed, as many a weary soul 
has done before her time, and since it. Ofi, for 
certainty ! We may believe it is right to fast, right 
to go to confession, right to believe in baptismal re- 
generation and sacramental grace ; but, after all, 
what real ground have we for our faith beyond 
mere opinion ? We think we are right ; but does 
this secure us from error? How can I rest my 
faith on my own opinion, when I see others far 
wiser and far holier who differ from me on the 
most important subjects ? Oh, my God !” she ex- 
claimed, falling on her knees in an agony of tears ; 

oh, my God, teach me what to believe and what 
to do in order to please Thee ! Oh, my God ! Thou 
knowest that I desire nothing but Thy grace and 
Thy love. Oh, my Creator ! refuse not to Thy 


556 


HORNE'-HURST RECTORY. 


creature the light to know what Thou hast re- 
vealed as necessary for m)^ salvation/’ 

Her prayer was long and fervent ; and more, it 
was sincere. There was no half-heartedness, no 
reserve, no calculations about the temporal incon- 
venience that might result if conviction prepon- 
derated in favor of the Catholic Church, no attach- 
ment to pet opinions long cherished and hard to 
part from, no dread what the world would say if 
views which had been long maintained as infallible 
were relinquished as false. And yet there was 
suffering enough, and struggle enough, as there 
must ever be when the spirit of heresy is making 
a last struggle to maintain its ground. 

Like most of her party, she had long been accus- 
tomed to look on Dr. Humbletone’s opinion* as 
infallible. When he spoke it seemed humility to 
be silent, to crush every doubt and to stifle every 
conviction ; and what made this submission still 
more dangerous was, that those whom he thus con- 
trolled were scarcely aware of how absolutely they 
were governed by him. Blinded by the reputation 
for sanctity, which he was given by a certain 
party, they imagined that his holiness of life pre- 
cluded him from error of doctrine ; and deceived 
by his constant professions of upholding the church, 
they forgot that his opinions were only those of 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


557 


a few individuals, and perpetually discountenanced 
and condemned by his ecclesiastical superiors. 
They craved authority and guidance, and when 
the right to direct was assumed without question 
by the leaders of their party, they submitted 
gladly, and never asked themselves who had given 
them the authority which they exercised. After 
all, little as they would have liked the comparison, 
they were simply in the position of a dissenter 
who ‘‘ sits under ” a certain minister, because he 
believes that that minister preaches the truth. 
They selected their own guides, and submitted to 
them rather than to the church to which they pro- 
fessed to belong, which condemned their very 
theory of infallibility in her articles, and in the 
latitude allowed in the opinions of those who min- 
istered to the congregations within her pale. They 
believed in a certain sense in the infallibility, or in 
what they called the indefectibility of the church ; 
they invested the body to which they belonged 
with this attribute, though she expressly disclaimed 
it, and then bowing down to their own opinion, 
they suffered themselves to be blindly led by those 
who held the same views of ecclesiastical polity as 
themselves. Surely, a dissenter who leaves Mr. 

D ’s ministry for Mr. B 's, because Mr. 

B is more Calvinistic or holds some pet theory 


558 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


of their own, is simply acting on the same princi- 
ple as a High Church young lady who obeys Mr. 
A ’s guidance because he holds the same opin- 

ions on baptismal regeneration or sacramental 

grace as herself, and condemns Mr. X because 

he does not hold the opinions which she considers 
sacred. In each case it is a question of private 
opinion, with this difference, that the church of 
England has in some measure declared its belief, 
though it expressly disclaims it to be any more than 
a matter of pious opinion whether that belief be 
right or wrong, and that belief, as declared in 
articles, occasional services, and homilies, is deci- 
dedly anti-Catholic ; while the dissenting churches 
in general claim no form of opinion exclusively, 
and are moulded or remodeled by the eloquence 
of their ministers, or the will of the multitude. 

What will Dr. Humbletone think of all this?’' ex- 
claimed Katie, almost aloud. It suddenly occurred 
to her that he was to be in London in a few days, 
and had written to her to say where he would meet 
her. His personal influence was immense with all 
his followers, and though her character was not 
naturally as susceptible of this mode of guidance as 
many others, still the circumstances in which she 
was placed had made her very dependent on a 
spiritual guide. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


559 


Mr. Langdale’s earnest' words had made a deep 
impression on her mind. She felt she was bound 
to inquire, but what would Doctor Humbletone 
say to this? She knew well he would sternly, 
positively forbid all intercourse with Mr. Lang- 
dale, and as certainly all perusal of Catholic 
works. 

The duty of inquiry was plainly the question for 
her, and her clear, energetic mind was not long in 
deciding on a line of action. She determined to 
call at Mrs. Wilson’s next morning, and leave a note 
there for Mr. Langdale, requesting him to appoint 
the earliest time he could for an interview, and 
stating that she wished to see him again before 
Doctor Humbletone’s visit. 

It did seem a very special Providence that Mr. 
Langdale was the first person whom she met on en- 
tering the good widow’s shop. An elderly lady, 
of peculiarly pleasing appearance, was with him, 
whom Mr. Langdale introduced to her as Lady 
Errington. The warm manner with which she 
extended her hand to Katie showed that she had 
already heard of her; and, after a few moments’ 
conversation, Miss Rossmore accepted her earnest 
invitation to return home with her, and see Mr. 

Langdale in square, where he was at present 

residing. 


560 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


Their conversation was long, and deeply interest- 
ing to both. 

‘‘And now, Katie,'' observed Mr. Langdale, “my 
advice to you is to see a priest at once. They have 
authority to teach, and I can only advise or sug- 
gest. You will feel happier after, if I may judge by 
my own experience, and you need not wait long, 
for I think Father Johnstone is here at present." 

Katie had never seen a priest or attended any 
Catholic service in her life, and for a few moments 
she dreaded the encounter. Mr. Langdale waited 
quietly, suspecting what was passing in her 
mind. 

“Well, Katie, are you afraid?" he inquired, 
smiling. “ I am not surprised it should be so, but 
I am anxious you should not lose the opportunity. 
If you like, I will introduce you merely as a friend 
of mine, and you need have no serious conversation 
until you feel more at home with him." 

“ I would like it, Mr. Langdale," she replied. 

In a few moments the dreaded individuaj was in- 
troduced, but the interview was shorter than any 
of the party had anticipated. 

A low knock at the door, which was partly 
opened, and a gentle “ May I come in ? " was fol- 
lowed by the entrance of Lady Errington. “ It is 
just luncheon-time," she continued, turning kind- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 561 

ly to Catherine, ‘‘and it would be a great plea- 
sure to me if I could induce you to join us. I would 
like to introduce you to my husband ; for, indeed, 
Miss Rossmore, we must be friends.” 

For a few moments Katie was unable to reply. 
Tears gushed, unbidden, to her eyes, and she felt 
painfully distressed that she could not control her 
emotion more in the presence of strangers. Lady 
Errington had experienced too much mental suffer- 
ing herself not to understand and feel deeply for 
her. 

“We will join you in a few moments,” she said, 
turning to Mr. Langdale ; and gently taking Katie’s 
hand, she led her to her dressing-room. With a 
mother’s tenderness she unfastened her shawl and 
laid aside her walking apparel. 

“ My dear, dear child ! ” she exclaimed, as poor 
Katie laid her head on her shoulder and burst into 
tears. “ My dear, dear child, I am a convert my- 
self, and I can understand it all ! ” 

“ You are very, very kind ! ” murmured Katie, as 
Lady Errington still held her in a fond embrace. 
“ Oh, if you knew how I have longed for some 
friend, for some one to trust, for some one to speak 
to!” 

“ You will soon have a better Friend to love and 
trust than I can ever be I ” replied Lady Errington, 
24* 


562 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


gently ; “ but He has not forbidden — rather, I should 
say, He has sanctified — human love, and something 
tells me, dear Miss Rossmore, that our friendship 
will be deep and lasting, though it has begun so 
strangely and abruptly.” 

I wish it might be,” replied Katie, sadly ; but 
I do not know what my mother will say ; it is so 
hard — ” 

‘‘ I have thought of that,” replied Lady Erring- 
ton ; but do you know that we are relatives, 
strange as it may seem ; and, if you think it well, I 
will call on your mother, and by claiming a connec- 
tion with your poor father's family, perhaps may 
smooth the way for your intercourse with us. You 
looksurprised,'* continued Lady Errington, as well 
you may ; but, I assure you, the moment Mr. Lang- 
dale mentioned your name to us, my husband ex- 
pressed a wish to see you, apart from the interest 
we felt in your peculiar position. Your father and 
Lord Errington were cousins ; but, though intimate 
in youth, of late years they had not met, as we 
have mostly lived on the continent, and Lord Ross- 
more seemed to shrink from intercourse with his 
own family.” 

Katie knew the reason well, and for a moment a 
faint shade of color tinged her pale cheek. It was 
noticed by Lady Errington, who suspected the 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


563 


cause ; for it was generally known that her father 
was ashamed of the connection, which, until it was 
too late, he had imagined himself but too happy in 
forming. 

The circumstances of Lady Rossmore's second 
marriage were also well known, and Miss Ross- 
more was sincerely commiserated by many who 
knew her only by name. 

In a few moments they were in the dining-room, 
where the gentlemen waited their arrival. Katie 
was introduced to Lord Errington, whose noble, 
gentle bearing reminded her painfully of the father 
she had so fondly loved. Naturally shy with 
strangers, she felt at first embarrassed and uncom- 
fortable, but the kindness of those around her 
rapidly removed such unpleasant impressions. 

The party had not long been seated, when a 
child's merry laugh was heard ringing through the 
large hall, and almost at the same moment a gentle- 
man entered the dining-room with the little prattler. 
It scarcely needed an introduction to suggest that 
he must be one of the family. There was the noble 
bearing oL the father; the gentle and beautiful 
smile of the mother. 

“This is Miss Rossmore, a relative of ours!" 
said Lord Errington, hurriedly. Mr. Errington 
appeared determined they should not be strangers. 


564 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


and extended his hand, in reply to Katie’s some- 
what timid recognition. 

And this is our little Amy ! ” continued Lady 
Errington, smiling, and leading the child to Katie. 

If I am not mistaken, Miss Rossmore, you are a 
lover of children ; and I think you will scarcely 
say,” she whispered, that it is altogether a grand- 
mother’s partiality if 1 think our little one must be 
loved ? ” 

Indeed, it is not ! ” exclaimed Katie, warmly 
embracing the child. I had a little sister once,” 
she added, sadly ; and her name was Amy, too ! ” 

The child raised her blue eyes one moment, and 
looked into Katie’s face ; and then she said, slowly 
and thoughtfully, And where is your little sister 
now ?” 

‘‘ She is dead, darling,” replied Katie, bending 
over the child to hide her tears. 

“ I am very sorry for you,” continued Amy, in 
the same thoughtful, gentle tone ; but had she a 
mamma?” 

'' Amy, darling, you are asking too many ques- 
tions,” interrupted Lady Errington. You will not 
let Miss Rossmore finish her lunch.” 

I beg your pardon,” said the child, looking at 
Katie as if she really was sorry, and then she glided 
up softly to her papa. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


565 


Lady Errington, meanwhile, had been preparing 
her dinner, which she usually took w^hile the family 
were at lunch. As she was the only child in the 
house, it was a convenient arrangement, and far 
preferable to allowing a servant to preside over her 
meals ; besides, it afforded little opportunities of 
teaching the child self-denial, as there were often 
things at table which she could not be allowed to 
partake of, and might naturally wish for. 

You are very silent to-day, Amy,” observed Mr. 
Langdale, as the little one sat, without speaking, by 
her grandmamma. But Amy was either in a 
meditative mood or more than usually anxious to 
finish her dinner. For a time the conversation be- 
came general, and no one noticed her. 

Suddenly, her little ringing laugh was heard, and 
her gayety seemed to have returned. ‘‘ Oh, grand- 
mamma, I forgot; there will be Benediction, by 
and by! Please, may I come?” 

And pray, Miss Amy, where did you get this 
information ? ” inquired her papa, smiling at her 
excessive eagerness and rather important look when 
making the announcement. 

Amy looked perplexed. -She did not quite under- 
stand the long word. 

Papa wants to know who told you, Amy ?” in- 
quired Lady Errington. 


$66 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


‘‘ Oh, papa, nurse told me, and it 's quite true. 
Please, papa, may I go? And will that lady go, 
too?” she whispered to her grandmamma. ‘‘And 
will she stay here and tell me about the other little 
Amy ? ” 

“ You may go and ask her,” replied Lady Erring 
ton, smiling at Katie, who had heard every word 
of the rather loud whisper. 

“Will you stay?” inquired Amy, timidly, and 
looking up at Katie. 

Miss Rossmore smiled, and took the child on her 
knee. “ And what is Benediction, Amy ? ” she in- 
quired. “You see, I am very ignorant.” 

The child looked immeasurably surprised. 
Thoughts flash quickly through a child’s mind, 
and a second idea often effaces the remembrance 
of the first. The first idea, on hearing the ques- 
tion, was that Miss Rossmore really did not know 
what Benediction was*; the second, that she was 
asking her a question, just as her grandmamma 
would ask her a question in the catechism. So, she 
replied, “ It is Jesus blessing the people. Will you 
come ? ” 



CHAPTER XLI. 

“ To burn the stick will not salve the sore ; to demolish the ar- 
gument does not obliterate the prejudice.” — Newman’s Lectures. 

ND pray, who are these Erringtons 
who are so anxious to make my ac- 
quaintance ?” enquired Lady Rossmore, 
when Katie had told her straightforwardly how she 
had met Lady Errington, and that she proposed to 
call next day. Lady Rossmore was partly flatter- 
ed at the compliment, for though she made the in- 
quiry above recorded, she knew who Lord Erring- 
ton was very well ; and partly annoyed, because 
she suspected that it was not altogether on her own 
account that the acquaintance was sought. 

Catherine replied as well as she could, and when 
Lady Errington did call next day as she promised, 
was agreeably surprised to find her mother more 
gracious and amiable than she could have ex- 
pected. 

Lady Errington was so well received, that she 

(567) 



568 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


scarcely hesitated to ask Lady Rossmore if she/ 
would allow her daughter to spend a few days at 

Square, adding, what was perfectly true, that 

her little grandchild had been so fascinated by her 
daughter, that she had wearied her with entreaties 
to bring that dear young lady to her. Lady Ross- 
more complied, and even named an early hour 
next day at which, she said, she would herself 
leave her daughter at Lady Errington’s. 

Lady Rossmore’s love of aristocracy for the first 
time in her life led to a line of conduct which was 
beneficial to others, and in no way prejudicial to 
herself. But Dr. Thundertone was by no means 
disposed to view the matter in so favorable a light. 
The Erringtons were Papists, and aristocracy was 
by no means so attractive to him as to his lady 
wife. It is true he appreciated hers, though it was 
but a shadow which death had left when the sub- 
stance was taken ; still it reflected a certain amount 
of credit on himself, and so far was valued ; but in 
the abstract the man was a democrat, and would 
fain have dragged every high thing, moral or spir- 
itual, to his own miserable level. 

The time of dinner was spent in dilating on the 
horrors of Popery, a subject to which Miss Ross- 
more had become so accustomed that his remarks 
made little impression, and had daily less power to 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 569 

annoy ; but on the present occasion, he started a 
new topic, on the originality of which he might 
certainly have prided himself. 

'' May I enquire. Miss Rossmore, to which of the 
many Roman Catholic sects your friends belong?^ 
Your party complain of the different opinions held 
by Protestants on religious matters, all of which 
certainly cannot be equally true, but I find our 
Popish adversary exceeds us. Allow me to read 
you a list which I copied the other day from a work 
exposing the errors of Anti-Christ.” Dr. Thunder- 
tone produced his pocket-book and commenced 
reading with great zest: ^‘Franciscans, Benedic- 
tines, Dominicans, Jesuits;” but here he paused. 
He could not pass them by without remark. “Jes- 
uits,” he repeated, again ; “ the worst, the most in- 
iquitous of all. ‘ Augustines, Carmelites, Visitation- 
ites,’ ” — he paused — “ oh, yes, I forgot, ‘ Poor Clares.' 
That name was not in the work I refer to, but I 
heard of it the other day. It must be some new 
sect, I imagine ; certainly they have chosen a sin- 
gular name.” 

“ But, Dr. Thundertone,” exclaimed Katie, more 
amused than vexed at his utter ignorance of even the 
most ordinary information concerning the church he 
was always maligning, “ is it possible that you do 
not know that these are the names of religious or- 


570 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


ders and not of sects. If a person is called, or calls 
himself a Baptist, every one knows that his peculiar 
belief is that people can be saved only by adult 
baptism; if an individual is denominated a Soci- 
nian, his form of belief, or rather of unbelief, is at 
once recognized, and we know that he denies the 
Divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ. But the appel- 
lation of Dominican or Franciscan or Carmelite 
simply denotes a particular order in the Catholic 
church which persons who wish to become monks 
or nuns have chosen, as they may prefer one rule or 
kind of life to another. I really thought every one 
knew this, and never could have supposed that the 
religious orders could be confounded with the 
sects of Protestantism. Surely, Dr. Thundertone,’' 
she continued, warmly, ‘‘you, who are always 
preaching and speaking against Catholics, are 
bound in conscience to inform yourself of what 
they really believe.’' 

“ I have no doubt. Miss Rossmore, you think 
what you say. But you must allow me to have my 
own opinion. We are told in the Scripture that 
the time will come when God will send on men a 
a strong delusion so that they shall believe a lie. 
Persons who tamper with error must expect to 
blind themselves to truth.” 

Catherine was by . no means inclined for argu- 


HORNE^HURST RECTORY, 


571 


mcnt, and would gladly have left the doctor un- 
answered, but he had a suspicion that her silence 
proceeded from a strong conviction which made 
her indifferent to the opinions of others, and he 
feared such convictions would lead to a step which 
he could only characterize as apostasy, perhaps 
even sooner than she herself anticipated. 

“Well, Miss Rossmore?” he continued, enquir- 
ingly, after a pause of some moments. 

“ If you are determined to believe the Roman 
Catholic Faith to be what you imagine it, and will 
not take the pains to ascertain what it really is, or 
believe those who are well informed on the sub- 
ject, any further remark of mine would be use- 
less.*' 

“ I am not a prejudiced person, Miss Rossmore; 
by no means so, I assure you. I have taken pains 
to enquire. But you must excuse me for saying 
that it is you probably who are misinformed. Can 
you suppose for one moment that persons of such 
experience in craft as the Jesuits, would at once 
allow you to know all their false doctrines? They, 
hold back from you, as much as possible, their 
idolatry and idolatrous practices, and ensnare your 
imagination, which I conceive is your weak point, 
by their " 

“ One question. Doctor Thundertone, before we 


572 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


proceed further. Did you ever read a Catholic 
book ? I do not mean a book of prayers, or devo- 
tions, or the life of a saint ; but did you ever read 
a Catholic catechism, or any work authorized by 
the bishops of the Catholic church, which contain- 
ed a statement of what Catholics must believe? ” 
Certainly not, Miss Rossmore. I should be 
very sorry to place my salvation in such peril/’ 
Then may I enquire how you know what Catho- 
lics believe, and why you so confidently state that 
I am under a strong delusion and believe a lie?” 

“ Simply because I know it to be the case. In 
your defence of Catholics you state that they are not 
idolaters. I know they are, every one says so, and 
if I required further proof, there are volumes in my 
library which prove from their own works, and from 
the testimony of eye-witnesses, that they believe in 
the Virgin Mary as a saviour and worship her as a 
god.” 

Then you acknowledge that you have never 
read a Catholic work, and I presume have never 
conversed with a Catholic.^” 

‘‘ Not unless there are Jesuits in disguise in my 
own family,” muttered the Doctor, in an sotto 

voce, 

Katie did not notice his remark, but continued 
calmly : For my mother’s sake. Doctor Thunder- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


573 


tone, I will speak on this subject for the last time. 
You accuse me of being blinded by my own sinful- 
ness, or misguided by some imaginary Jesuit, and 
yet what have I dond to merit this accusation ? I 
have prayed, God only knows how earnestly, that 
I might believe nothing, and do nothing contrar}^ 
to His will ; that I might be enlightened to know 
that will. I have enquired what is the faith of 
Catholics, since they alone possess unity of faith. 
I have made these enquiries from persons who were 
really instructed in the Catholic faith, and I have 
read carefully and prayerfully the Catholic cate- 
chism, which I now present to you, and have not 
formed my opinion of that faith from misquoted 
passages or interested misrepresentations of those 
whose only object seems to be to blind themselves 
and others to the light of truth. You have a Catho- 
lic catechism now, Doctor Thundertone ; you can 
know now what is taught to every Catholic child, 
be they rich or poor ; be they English, Irish, 
American, French, Italians, or Chinese. And now 
that you can no longer plead ignorance of the 
Catholic faith, I pray God you may no longer 
spend your time or your talents in wilfully misrep- 
resenting it. You speak of blindness of conscience 
as the reason why I incline towards the Catholic 
church. What! am I not to exercise the reason 


574 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


that God has given me ? Am I not to use my in- 
tellect to enquire, and when I have enquired, am I 
not to believe what I hear and see and read, be- 
cause Protestants have settled a code of morals and 
a form of religious belief for Catholics which exists 
no where but in their own imagination ? 

You say that Catholics worship the Blessed 
Virgin as God, and their catechism tells me ‘ that we 
may never give her divine or supreme honor, which 
is due to God alone.' You reiterate the assertion 
that Papists bow down before a wafer of flour and 
water, and adore it. The catechism tells me that 
‘ the bread and wine are changed into the body and 
blood of Christ at the consecration,' so that Catho- 
lics do not worship a wafer, but their God, who is 
ever present on their altars in the adorable sacra- 
ment of His love. You may deny, or disbelieve, 
or interpret as you please our Divine Lord's asser- 
tion, that He would give His children His flesh to 
eat, and that unless w^e eat His flesh and drink His 
blood, we have no life in us. But you have no 
right to say that Catholics are idolaters, or that the 
mass is an idolatrous service, since on your own 
principles they surely must have a right to inter- 
pret the Bible for themselves, and to act on that in- 
terpretation. Had you lived in the days when our 
Divine Lord shrouded His godhead under the form 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


575 


of a human Body, you would possibly have con- 
demned those who by faith recognized His divin- 
ity and worshipped Him as God ; you would have 
stigmatized them as idolaters, as worshipers of a 
mere man ; and if, perchance, they strove to explain 
to you that they would no mT)re worship a mere 
creature than yourself, you would have pitied their 
ignorance, or condemned loudly their superstition 
in seeing more in the carpenter’s son than was 
visible to your superior light, or your more scrip- 
tural views of a Messiah. If you believe that Al- 
mighty God took upon Him the nature of man, to 
live a life of suffering, and to die a cruel death, 
why, oh ! why is it so hard to believe that He has 
also given Himself to be the spiritual food and sup- 
port of those creatures whom He has loved with 
such inconceivable tenderness ?” 

‘‘You have been taught your lesson well! ” ex- 
claimed Doctor Thundertone, contemptuously ; 
“ but words are words ; and pray what excuse can 
you give for indulgences, permissions to commit 
sin, paid for and forgiven before the crime is com- 
mitted ? ” 

“ Doctor Thundertone, I have been taught noth- 
ing but what God in His mercy has taught me. I 
never saw a Catholic priest but once, for a very 
short time, and then I had no conversation with 


576 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 


him on religious subjects. But I have read Catho- 
lic books, and, as I remarked before, I have studied 
the Catholic catechism. It is not intended for Pro- 
testants ; it is not a controversial work ; it does not 
explain what could be explained and might need 
explanation to many ; but it is what Catholics are 
taught, and therefore I value it, for I presume it 
does not require much acuteness of intellect to be- 
lieve that such a work could contain no misstate- 
ments for the purpose of entrapping heretics. It 
tells you that Catholics do not worship a piece of 
bread, and it also tells you that ‘ an indulgence is 
not a pardon for sins to come, nor a license to com- 
mit sin.’ ” 

A few days after there was a great meeting of 
the Reformation Society, in London. Sir Timothy 
Tadpole presided, and Doctor Thundertone spoke 
at length, on the rapid inroads that Popery was 
making in this Protestant country. He again and 
again declared that Papists were idolaters ; that 
they worshiped wafer gods ; that they paid their 
priests for leave to commit sin, and, strangely 
enough, that they believed they would be saved by 
their works without the merits of Christ. There 
was not one individual in that vast assemblage who 
had ever seen a Catholic catechism, or read a Catho- 
lic book ; if, indeed, we except the liturgy used by 


BORNE-HURST RECTUR Y. 


577 


the Established Church, a considerable portion of 
which is taken from the Catholic Missal {yulgo, Mass 
Book) ; but they did not care to enquire further, the 
delusion was too pleasant to be relinquished ; it was 
self-gratifying to pity these poor, blind idolaters ; 
the tradition was too old to be relinquished. What 
would the fashionable world say if the evangelical 
world acknowledged its error, and said a mea culpa 
for all the lies it had uttered? But the Catholic 
catechism lay on Doctor Thundertone’s study table ; 
he had kept it as a curiosity. There is a time com- 
ing when he will hear of that catechism again. 
There will be no applauding audience at the day of 
judgment, and no excuses will avail even to them- 
selves for those who have been willfully self-de- 
ceived. 

As a Protestant, Dr. Thundertone had a perfect 
right to differ in his religious belief from all the 
world, if he pleased ; but as an honorable man, to 
take the lowest ground, he had no right to state 
that the belief of any Christian was different to 
what they themselves declared it to be. 



CHAPTER XLII. 


“ The Abbot shall take all possible care, that nothing may be 

neglected in the proper care and service of the sick Let the 

Abbot, therefore, be vigilant, that the sick may suffer nothing by the 
negligence of procurators and servants, and remember that he shall 
be responsible for all the faults of his brethren/" 

— Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter xxxvi . — Of the Sick. 

HE is ill, sister Sophia ! exclaimed Ger- 
trude, indignantly ; and it is cruel and 
unjust to require her to make such exer- 
tions.” 

Nonsense ! ” replied the individual thus ad- 
dressed. It is mere imagination, and you are 
doing her a false kindness by humoring her 
fancies.” 

Gertrude turned away with a heavy heart. Since 

her removal to she had seen a great deal of 

sister, or, as she was more generally called, Infant, 
Ellen ; and she could not but admire her self-forget- 
fulness, her gentle, affectionate manner, and the 
(578) 




HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


579 

humility, real or apparent, with which she sub- 
mitted to every caprice of her superior. 

A rule had been lately enforced on the sisters, 
which was so rigorous — in fact, so unbearable — that 
there were few who were not sinking under the 
experiment. We have said that Miss Dobbs wished 
to designate her Order as Dunstanines ; but there 
was something more required than a mere name. 
A rule of life had to be framed, and, of course, to 
adopt an)^ existing Catholic rule was far below Miss 
Dobbs’ aspiring. With pen in hand, she sat and 
mused ; and, with importance on her brow, she 
wrote a rule, to which we must at least award the 
merit of originality. She knew nothing of conven- 
tual life, except what she gathered from the lives 
of the saints who had lived in deserts, or in the very 
early ages of the Church, when it is generally 
acknowledged that severe fasts and prolonged 
vigils were more possible to human nature than in 
our own age, when luxurious habits have enervated 
the constitution and made what was possible in 
ordinary life, a few centuries ago, impossible even 
for the most robust of our own days. But there 
was another, and a more important, fault in her 
calculations. When she read of prolonged fasts; 
of total abstinence from food for da3^s ; of nights 
spent without sleep, and this for years, she was not 


58 o horne-hurst rectory. 

aware that these were supernatural graces, given 
by God, and that where such supernatural grace 
was not given, nature could not support life with- 
out the ordinary means. Miss Dobbs talked about 
sanctity, and professed a certain, though very dis- 
tant and criticising, admiration for the saints ; but 
she had not the smallest conception of what sanc- 
tity really meant; so that, perhaps, in some sense it 
was rather her misfortune than her fault if she 
made very false calculations. Her one idea was 
reform. The Church of England was not sufficiently 
Catholic, and the Church Catholic was not suffi- 
ciently Protestant. 

If she had been a man, Doctor Humbletone was 
often heard to say, she would certainly have been a 
bishop, and then — why, then, she might have re- 
formed the Church of England more eflFectuall}^ If it 
seceded from Rome under the reign of Henry VIII., 
of sanguinary memory, why should it not be seceded 
from under the reign of Queen Victoria, of peace- 
ful fame ? and the new Church would have been 
none the Avorse in her eyes, if but b}^ law established. 
But as it was, she could only reform on a small 
scale, and hope for a larger sphere of influence. 

No ; Catholic convents were not at all strict 
enough. It remained for her to show what a Prot- 
estant convent could be. Her rule, at least, would 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 581 

be severe enough to excite the astonishment, if not 
the admiration of succeeding generations. The 
sisters were now to wear a more ecclesiastical dress, 
modelled by their lady mother, and so contrived 
that they should suffer as much as possible from 
the heat in summer, and the cold in winter. They 
were allowed to retire to rest at eight o’clock in 
the evening, but were required to rise at two A. M., 
winter and summer. After hours spent in prayer, 
or rather in dreamy languor, and then in hard work, 
they were permitted their morning meal ; but this 
was on no account to be eaten a moment sooner 
than ten o’clock. Tea and bread, with a little meat 
on some few days, and vegetables or eggs on others, 
was their fare, and at four in the afternoon, tea and 
bread was again allowed as a great indulgence. 
Miss Dobbs was very well aware when she 
proposed, or rather enforced, this rule, that many 
of her sisters would by no means submit to it, but 
it gratified her vanity to be able to say that it was 
observed even by some. A few of the most robust 
or most manageable of the sisters were assembled 

at , and, under the presidency of sister 

Sophia, they began this most trying life. 

It was now that Miss Dobbs found the advantage 
of having kept herself and her establishment sepa-r 
rate from the sisters. She could not see the pallid 


582 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


faces, the heavy eyes, the worn, weary looks ; she 
could not hear the exclamations of impatience, 
even of indignation, nor the secret murmurs of dis- 
content ; she did not believe the reports that 
reached her ears ; and when, at last, more than 
one of her unfortunate children fell victims 
to this iron rule, she pleaded ignorance of their 
sufferings, and excused herself, and was excused 
by others, on the plea that she knew nothing of 
what passed, as she left all such matters to the care 
of the sister who presided, for the time-being, over 
each house. One thing was very certain. Miss 
Dobbs never tried on herself the experiments she 
tried on others. 

When Gertrude Helmore was informed of the 
new arrangement, she made no opposition to it. 
For some time past Miss Dobbs had forbidden the 
sisters all recreation. Perpetual silence was now 
supposed to reign, and the sisters spent long, dreary 
hours in their cells, almost unoccupied. At first 
the loneliness was so oppressive that more than one 
of these ladies feared her reason must give way, 
and earnest expostulations were addressed to the 
senior sister on the subject, but she declared herself 
unable to remedy the evil ; it was the lady superior’s 
•order, and it must be obeyed. The sisters had no 
way of ascertaining whether their complaints ever 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


583 

reached Miss Dobbs’ ear. Sister Sophia was con- 
stantly with her, and most anxious to keep in favor, 
so that, possibly, she did not report anything very 
disagreeable ; but Miss Dobbs had other means of 
obtaining information, of which she was not slow to 
avail herself when it suited her convenience to be 
informed of what passed at Townsend Villa, so that 
probably there was not much of which she was not 
fully aware. The new regulation of perpetual 
silence had rather a contrary effect to what was 
anticipated by the lady mother. The sisters were 
mostly young, and naturally felt a desire to impart 
their anxieties and griefs to each other. Some few, 
like Infant Ellen, kept the rule strictly, and one 
lady appeared on the verge of childish imbecility, 
from her efforts to control the unruly member ; but 
this strictness was by no means general, and long 
private conversations were of daily occurrence. 
To escape sister Sophia’s vigilance was the only 
difficulty, and this was easily accomplished. Dur- 
ing the day she was constantly out, and in the 
evening frequently with the lady mother. It was 
a weary, depressing life, and it told heavily in 
after-years on all who had endured it for any 
time. 

It was evident to all that Infant Ellen was sink- 
ing rapidly ; but she seldom complained, and 


584 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


strove to work on with a fervor and courage 
worthy of a holier cause. She had fainted several 
times before the hour at which the morning meal 
was taken, and, in consequence, was allowed to 
remain in bed a few hours later ; but Miss Dobbs 
did not like to have delicate people about her, and 
gave orders that she be removed to Townsend 
Villa. Poor Sister Ellen meekly obeyed ; but even 
Sister Sophia could scarcely restrain her tears 
when she saw the look of hopeless sorrow on her 
young and beautiful face. She only asked if she 
might see the lady superior once before she left, 
but the request was coldly and sternly refused. 
Ellen had begun to feel the bitterness of ingrati- 
tude. She had been the servant of her superior 
for several years ; she had toiled for her until her 
naturally strong constitution gave way beneath the 
constant fasts, the long vigils, the incessant hard 
work, the inconsiderate services constantly requir- 
ed from her ; and now, when she felt she was 
dying, when it would seem that even common 
charity would require some return, at least, of 
affectionate enquiry, she was dismissed coldly and 
indifferently, and another took the place which she 
had suffered so much without complaint to retain. 
Ah ! it was bitter — harder, far harder, than the 
bodily suffering she had so long and so patiently 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


585 


endured. Days passed slowly on, and each day 
she hoped some message would be sent to her, or 
even, as she became rapidly worse, that the lady 
superior might come to visit her. Depressed 
with illness, and bitterly disappointed, she could 
not but reflect on her long and devoted service, 
and the cold indifference with which it had been 
repaid. Her illness was a rapid consumption, but 
so painless that her weakness alone made her con- 
scious of her approaching end. In the long, lonely 
hours, when she could not sleep at night, and could 
not rest by day, she wept in agony such as only 
the forsaken can feel. Once when Sister Sophia 
entered the room, and found her in tears, she 
chided her sharply for giving way ; and when Ellen 
entreated that she might go home, for her parents 
were still living, the sister turned away with con- 
tempt and indignation on her brow. But contempt 
could not quiet the achings of the lonely heart. 
What was there to fill the desolate void? She 
knew not until now how much she had lived for 
the superior, how little she had lived for God. 
And now, that she was deprived of that which had 
been her end, and deserted by the individual in 
whom she had placed her confidence, what re- 
mained? “ My father, my mother,” she would 
exclaim, again and again ; oh, why did I ever 


5 86 HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 

leave them ! Oh, if I could but see my home 
once more; if I could -but die in my mother’s 
arms, or hear my father’s voice ! And they, they 
know not what I suffer, and,” she exclaimed, with 
something like indignation, they never will know !” 
Sometimes she would open the door of .her little 
room, and entreat the sisters to come and stay 
with her for a few moments, and, although sister 
Sophia had given orders that no one should enter 
her cell, she was seldom refused. 

Gertrude Helmore tried to be with her as much 
as possible ; she felt it was but an act of common 
charity. But it seemed strange to her that Ellen, 
who had always been so silent and reserved, should 
now change so suddenly. She knew not as yet 
how hard it was to bear sickness and suffering 
without a word of sympathy or a smile of affec- 
tion. She knew not that under the influence of 
circumstances a person’s character might for a 
time appear far different to what it really was. 
Sister Ellen had a motive for her silence, and re- 
serve and self-sacrifice ; that motive was now with- 
drawn, and her natural character became apparent. 
Nothing but divine grace can really alter the na- 
tural disposition, or enable us to acquire habits of 
virtue, and both sister Ellen and Gertrude were 
members of an establishment which protested 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 587 

against the only means which could have enabled 
them to attain the degree of perfection which they 
imagined they already possessed. 

Human affections, when uninfluenced, by super- 
natural motives, are often strange and capricious 
in their action. Ellen, with sister Sophia and sev^- 
eral others, had lavished a wealth of love and 
devotion on the object which they chose to en- 
shrine in their imaginations as their ideal of perfec- 
tion ; and now, though the spell was more or less 
withdrawn from the former, she still hesitated to 
blame the real cause of her sufferings. Once or 
twice Gertrude spoke of Miss Dobbs, but she per- 
ceived her companion always shrunk from the 
subject, and seemed to feel painfully even the 
mention of her name ; nor did she blame sister 
Sophia’s indifference and neglect. Perhaps she 
knew too well she could expect nothing else from 
her. Her greatest relief seemed to be to talk of 
the past, of her home, her early days, her father’s 
love, her mother’s gentleness, and how freely they 
had parted from her, because they believed Miss 
Dobbs would be more than all to her, and they 
thought her life would be holier and happier with 
her than with them. Happily, for their peace of 
mind, they lived still in the same delusion, and 
poor Ellen, who had neither seen nor heard from 


588 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


them for several years, was strangely divided be- 
tween her desire to save them from suffering and 
her wish that they should sympathize in her trials 
even after she had ceased to suffer from them. 

One evening she called Gertrude softly to her 
room, and gave her a scrap of paper, on which she 
had written her father's name and address. You 

will tell them about me, Gertrude, when I am " 

she paused, she could not say the word ; death 
had no joy for her except that she hoped, as all 
Protestants hope, that it would be a relief from a 
life of misery. ‘‘You will tell them about me 
Gertrude ; that I loved them and thought of them 
to the very last. My poor father! And you will* 
tell them all I suffered — that is, if you leave this, 
Gertrude ; but," she added, quickly, “ I hope you 
will not. You must try to persevere. The lady 
superior will be very kind to you ; and perhaps 
you will see more of her after a time ; perhaps she 
will not be so delicate." 

Gertrude was silent for a moment ; then she said 
calmly : “ Ellen, darling Ellen, I will do all you 
ask. It is a sacred trust, and, please God, it shall 
be sacredly fulfilled." 

She would have expressed her own feelings 
about Miss Dobbs’ conduct, but when she had 
done so once before, the sister had seemed pained. 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


589 


The simple reason was that she could not bear to 
hear another speak reproachfully of her former 
idol, and her pride forbade her to acknowledge to 
any one but herself that she felt the neglect and 
indifference with which she was treated ; it was 
almost too humiliating to be owned even in her 
own heart, and so she strove to excuse it to others, 
and fancied she succeeded in doing so. 

Gertrude retired to her room more utterly mis- 
erable than she had ever felt before. The present 
was so dismal, so oppressive ; the future so cold 
and hopeless. She went to the window and press- 
ed her burning brow against the cold glass. What 
could she do? This misery was past endurance; 
this life surely could not be a holy one. Could 
God require this utter wretchedness from souls 
who only desired to live for him ? Then solitude 
became so oppressive, the desire for some one to 
speak to was so intense. Was this strange wild 
feeling madness? Her head reeled, or rather her 
mind seemed as if it must lose its balance. The 
thought was fearful ; she laughed hysterically at 
the idea, and then pressed her hands to her heart 
as if to still its wild throbbing. Could she bear 
this for another day ; for another hour? She had 
suffered something like it before, but never had 
felt so painfully past all power of self-control. An 


590 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


hour passed unheeded. What could she do ? Oh, 
how gladly she would have changed places with 
sister Ellen, and laid down to die ! She could 
trust God in death. She felt she had been very 
wicked, though she would have been perplexed if 
asked to enumerate her sins. Still, she thought, 
she hoped she would be forgiven, and in Heaven 
there must be rest. But though she was suffering 
much physically, as well as mentally, she knew she 
was not likely to die ; and life seemed so intoler- 
able ! True, she had a home; she had a loving 
mother ; she had a devoted sister ; but how could 
she live with them ? how could she be happy with 
them while she held her present opinions? The 
most bigoted Orangeman, and the most zealous 
Papist are not more opposed in their feelings, prac- 
tices, inclinations and opinions than are the mem- 
bers of the Church of England when one embraces 
Puseyite doctrine and another holds Low Church 
views. It is the very signal for discord and dis- 
sension. We believe there will be many of our 
readers who will bear testimony to the truth of our 
assertion. Happy for them if they have not had 
personal experience of the misery of such trials. 
Gertrude knew it well. She had endured a great 
deal before she became a Protestant sister. She 
knew if she returned home, she must endure far 


HORNE-HURSr RECTORY, 


591 

more now. She would be watched, suspected, mis- 
trusted and, perhaps, considered a Jesuit in dis- 
guise sent out of the sisterhood to pervert others. 
No, she could not return home. Her religious 
opinions were a matter of conscience, and she 
dared not dissemble or conceal them. She thought 
of Dr. Humbletone, but already she knew the hope- 
lessness of appealing to him, and it might be months 
before she would see him. She raised her eyes for 
a moment as the sun poured in its last golden rays 
into her little room, and as she looked up she saw 
a cross on a building at some short distance, which 
sparkled brightly in the evening light. It was a 
convent, and the nuns had just assembled in the 
garden. She could see them moving hither and 
thither in groups, apparently conversing. With 
no little interest she watched every movement. 

Were they unhappy, too she asked herself ; but 
somehow she could not think they were ; and yet 
why should they not be? There was no reason 
she could imagine, why they might not be as mis- 
erable as herself. ‘‘They are nuns, and so,” she 
thought, “am I.” But still she could not think 
they were unhappy ; she felt they were not. Oh ! 
what would she not have given to see one of them 
for a moment, to visit their convent alone. For an 
instant it flashed through her mind that it was not 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


592 

SO impossible ; the distance was not so great ; she 
had been out alone once. She could easily manage to 
be out for an hour without being missed. It was 
a gleam of hope, a resource that seemed possible, 
and was treasured all the more because, so short a 
time before, her case had seemed so hopeless, so ir- 
remediable. It was but for a moment, and her 
heart sank again even more heavily than before. 
The nuns were all strangers. She did not know 
one of them even by name. What would they 
say? What would they think? Who would she 
ask for ? and what excuse would she give for com- 
ing ? and, after all, what did she want to know only 
whether they were happy or not? — only whether 
a Catholic convent was like Miss Dobbs' sister- 
hood ? and then — why then, she must come back 
to Townsend Villa, and if her absence had been 
discovered, or the cause even suspected — she fell 
back on her seat and trembled at the very idea. 

From that evening the convent was an object of 
interest to her. She watched the garden continu- 
ally, and at last ascertained that the nuns were in 
it altogether twice a day. Sometimes they sat 
down in a circle, or near each other, and some- 
times they walked about the garden. One evening 
she saw them all running toward the porch which 
led from the convent into the garden. A nun was 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


593 


coming through it, and she wondered why they all 
appeared so anxious to meet her. It was the Rev- 
erend Mother who had been detained from recrea- 
tion for a little while by some business; and her 
children felt lonely without her. It is true they 
were very happy, and conversed with each other 
very merrily until she came ; but if Gertrude had 
been nearer she would have seen a great many 
glances at the porch door before the nun came, 
and she would have heard merrier laughter and 
seen even more joyous smiles when at length she 
made her appearance. 

Poor Gertrude knew nothing of all this, and 
never even suspected who it was that was so 
warmly welcomed. Certainly it would never have 
occurred to her that it was a reverend mother, for 
she thought a Catholic superior must be even more 
dignified than Miss Dobbs, and would have their 
own apartments, and certainly would not live and 
eat, and walk and talk like, or with, the sisters 
whom they governed. 

The bell to attend the oratory roused her from 
her abstraction, and she proceeded mechanically 
to her place. Sister Sophia always presided, and 
if she happened to be absent no office was said. 
This evening, however, she was in her usual seat. 
Vespers had not been recited before dinner, as she 


594 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


was out, and now she commenced them, from what 
caprice no one could divine, as, if an office was not 
said at the usual time, it was always omitted alto- 
gether. The psalms were concluded and the mag- 
nificat just commenced, when a violent pealing of 
the hall-door bell announced some important arri- 
val. A few months previous, Gertrude would have 
been alarmed, but she had become accustomed to 
these startling rings, and knew the cause. A per- 
son, half-lay sister and half-servant, who attended 
to the cooking and generally answered the door, 
entered the oratory in a hurried manner, and whis- 
pered for a moment to sister Sophia. The effect 
was electric, she dropped her book and ran up- 
stairs precipitately for her bonnet and shawl, ran 
as rapidly down stairs, closed the street door with 
a slam that shook the house, and flew, rather than 
walked up the street. Her precipitation might 
have been amusing enough to persons who were 
not inconvenienced by it ; but this was not the 
case at present. The sisters laid down their books 
and seated themselves on the ground, their only 
resource, as there were no chairs. They suspected 
sister Sophia had been summoned by the lady 
mother. When she would return, became now a 
subject of anxious conjecture. For a time all were 
silent ; but when an hour had passed, and they 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


59S 


heard no indications of her return, an anxious 
whisper passed round as to what they should do. 
No one ever thought of finishing the office, it was 
always considered a matter of secondary impor- 
tance, so the question was, should they go to bed or 
remain where they were until sister Sophia’s re- 
turn. It was usual for her to ring a bell as a signal 
for leaving the oratory, and one or two of the sis- 
ters thought they ought not to leave it until this 
was rung. It was their idea of obedience. The 
others rather enjoyed the excitement of watching 
for her return, and the private conversation which 
her absence enabled them to have. Gertrude ob- 
served vivid flashes of sheet lightning, and knowing 
that poor Ellen was alone in her room, and 
always very timid at such a time, she at first 
thought of going to her, but on reflection, decided 
on remaining where she was, as this act of 
charity would probably have got the invalid into 
trouble, and perhaps have prevented their inter- 
course for the future. 

The sister who had protested most loudly against 
talking, had prostrated herself full-length on the 
ground, which was a very usual way for the sisters 
to place themselves when at prayer ; a sound sleep 
was the almost immediate consequence. The 
younger ones gathered close to each other, and as 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


596 

far from the windoAV as possible, and conversed in 
a low tone. 

Just as the clock was striking twelve, sister So- 
phia returned. The servant informed her that she 
believed the ladies had not left the oratory. In a 
few moments they heard her ascend the stairs and 
ring the bell softly. The sisters hurried out, but 
Sophia had closed her door, and did not appear 
again until next morning. No one was called un- 
til six, a favor granted for the simple reason that 
the presiding sister required a sleep, but whether 
she had her superior's permission for this indul- 
gence could never be ascertained. 

Sister, or we should rather have said Matron, 
Sophia — for she had attained that dignity — rose 
next morning in a particularly active frame of mind. 
Her dull, heavy, unintellectual face appeared almost 
animated. Evidently, she had some great plan in 
hand. The sisters looked at each other fearfully, 
and whispered their conjectures. They need not 
have suffered apprehension. Her attention was 
exclusively confined to Infant Ellen. The poor 
girl had spent a weary, wakeful night, and had just 
fallen into an uneasy slumber, which, with all its 
restlessness, would have been a refreshment, had 
she been permitted to enjoy it. She was dreaming 
of home, and there was a faint smile on her thin 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


597 


lips and a flush on her usually pale cheek. She 
looked so like what she had been five years before, 
when she entered Miss Dobbs’ establishment, full 
of life and beauty, that for a moment Sophia 
paused and hesitated. It was but a moment ; for 
the sister prided herself on being a strong-minded 
woman, and was almost ashamed that natural feel- 
ing should assert its sway even for an instant. She 
was very religious, too, — secundum Dobbs — and 
her religion made her more and more cold and 
heartless. Perhaps, our readers have met with 
such characters. If they have, we charitably hope 
they have not been their attendants in sickness, or 
companions in sorrow. 

The window-shutters were unclosed roughly and 
the wooden bar let fall with a loud, sharp jerk. 
Ellen started up in the bed for a moment, and then 
fell back, faint, from a violent palpitation of the 
heart, which so sudden a summons to rise might 
have inflicted on a stronger frame. She shaded 
her weak eyes from the light as well as she could, 
and was about to speak, but sister Sophia saved 
her that exertion. 

‘‘ My dear — ” (She always said my dear ” when 
she felt determined to be particularly stern.) My 
dear, the lady mother thinks you ought to exert 
yourself Your illness will only be increased by 


598 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


giving way so much, and really it is time for you 
to begin to be of some use. So, you had better 
get up and try to come down to dinner’' (breakfast, 
which, it will be remembered, was at ten o’clock, 
A. M., was designated by that name), and then you 
can go out with me. I am going to visit some poor 
people at a distance, and the walk will be good for 
you.” 

Very well, sister,” replied Ellen, meekly, and 
trying to rise. 

Sister Sophia moved toward the door. She could 
not help seeing that Ellen looked very white, but 
she was determined not to notice it. 

I dare say, you will feel it a little at first, Ellen,” 
she said, somewhat more kindly ; “ but you must 
really make some exertion. It is very wicked to 
give way so much.” 

I will try, sister ; indeed, I will. I would be 
so sorry to displease you or dearest mother.” 

The last words were uttered almost reluctantly. 
Why did it seem so hard to say what a few weeks 
ago would have been said so sincerely ? Was Miss 
Dobbs no longer her dearest mother ? 

To the surprise of all the sisters, Ellen appeared 
at dinner. They had meat that day, and the smell 
of the heavy, hot meal seemed more than she 
could bear. She just tasted a cup of tea and a little 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 5 qq 

bit of bread and butter. How she wished for a 
little milk or arrow-root, or some simple food that 
she could take, but she dafed not ask for anything. 
Some of the sisters ate largely and almost greedily. 
It was their only meal in the day, except their 
slight supper. Those who were very strong, and 
could consume what under ordinary circumstances 
would have made an additional meal, managed 
pretty well. The weak were fast sinking, and only 
envied sister Ellen’s more rapid decay. 

Soon after the morning meal, sister Sophia was 
ready for her walk. As a great condescension, she 
carried the small can of very inferior broth, which 
they were taking to the poor woman she had 
promised to visit. 

Miss Dobbs’ private expenses, telegraph messages, 
and other outlays of the kind, were so extensive that 
she could afford to give but very little in charity. 
Sister Sophia was the only member of the society 
who visited the poor at — . 

A long and weary walk brought them to their 
destination, and when they arrived, poor Ellen 
could only sink back, breathless and exhausted, on a 
chair. Sister Sophia was excessively annoyed, all 
the more so because the poor woman pitied her, 
and said she was sure the young lady was very 
bad.” Mrs. Marks was kind-hearted, and her own 


6oo 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


poverty and trials had not steeled her against the 
sufferings of others. As soon as Ellen could stand 
again, sister Sophia hurried her away, and it was 
on their return to Townsend Villa, when the poor 
girl fell almost lifeless on the stairs, that Gertrude 
Helmore made the observation revealed in the be- 
ginning of this chapter. 

It was Ellen's last walk. She sank rapidly, but 
complained of nothing but weakness, excessive 
weakness — a form of suffering often more difficult 
to endure than the most severe bodily pain. No ad- 
ditional nourishment was given her. Sister Sophia 
was under the impression that when people were 
ill they should eat as little as possible, and she could 
not understand that the coarse, hard fare which 
might be relished, or at least consumed, in health, 
would by no means satisfy the cravings of a wasting 
decay, when the most delicate and constant nourish- 
ment is often required, even to the last. One of 
sister Sophia’s peculiarities was a firm conviction 
that every one thought and felt on every subject 
precisely as she did. She went to bed for the pur- 
pose of sleeping, and she could not understand why 
other people could not, or did not, do the same. It 
was simply absurd to like awake at night, and feel 
sleepy toward morning. She could consume an 
abundance of plain, coarse food — in fact, she had 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 6o I 

never been accustomed to anything else — and why 
could not the other sisters do the same. If any 
little extra fare was allowed on rare occasions, it 
always disagreed with her, and, therefore, she de- 
cided it must be unwholesome for them, and pro- 
hibited its appearance for the future. Thus the 
sisters were deprived of any additions to their hard 
fare, which, though they were but rare and trifling, 
were all the more acceptable in consequence. 

A phj^siognomist could not be much astray about 
her character. Her face had a wooden look, that in- 
dicated sufficiently what might be expected from 
her intellect. It was as hard, vulgar, self-willed, as 
such intellects usually are ; and yet there were 
gleams to alleviate it now and again that seemed 
to say she might have been trained to habits of 
consideration for others, to larger-mindedness, and 
to intellectual and moral perceptions far beyond 
her present power of comprehension. Self was the 
one idea, the ruling power, the gov^erning motive ; 
and her selfishness was so completely naturalized 
that she was scarcely aware of its existence. 

Her devotion to Miss Dobbs was unbounded, 
and was amply repaid by the trust reposed in her, 
of which she was not a little proud. It never oc- 
curred to her that she, too, might be cast off and 
neglected like sister Ellen ; so she enjoyed the 
26 


6o2 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


present without any uncomfortable misgivings 
about the future. 

Wooden as her intellect was, she could not but 
see that poor Ellen was rapidly sinking, but her 
heart was still untouched. She was annoyed that 
she did not recover, because she thought the lady 
mother expected she would. At all events, she 
objected to the. idea of any one being delicate except 
herself. And sister Sophia was bound, in conse- 
quence, to do her utmost to convince Ellen that 
nothing ailed her. The poor girl struggled on to 
the last. The day before her death she asked earn- 
estly, oh ! how earnestly, to see a clergyman, any 
clergyman, who would hear confessions. She 
would rather have seen Doctor Humbletone, be- 
cause, when she was allowed at rare intervals to 

perform that What shall we call it ? Custom, 

or ceremony, or sacrament ? No, certainly it 

is not a sacrament in the Church of England. 
Shall we say pious practice? Well, when she was 
allowed to perform that pious practice, the Doctor 
had been her confidante. But death had already 
cast his cold, icy shadow over her soul ; she was 
coming very near reality, and the romance of 
religion could no longer satisfy. Her request 
was sternly refused. It was evening, and she sat 
and wept alone. She tried to pray ; she tried to 


IIO:^NE-HURST RECTOR Y. 603 

be resigned ; she tried to believe that it was imagi- 
nation, that sister Sophia must be right ; she would 
recover ; she would try to exert herself ; she v/as 
sure Miss Dobbs was displeased with her for being 
ill so long, and that was the reason she never sent 
her a message or asked to see her. Ah ! she would 
try so hard now to get well, and then ^ — . Still she 
clung to the old affection. It was hard for a young 
heart to believe there was such black ingratitude 
in the world ; such selfish, cold indifference to the 
sufferings of others. She would rather think she 
had been wrong herself ; it was less painful to her 
feelings, even less humiliating to her pride. 

She rose quickly, and began to work about her 
room ; she lifted the bed-clothes, and thought, per- 
haps, she would sleep better if she made the bed. 
Gertrude’s room was exactly over Ellen’s. She 
was gazing in listless misery from the window, 
when suddenly she heard a heavy fall. In a moment 
she was in the room below. Ellen lay insensible on 
the floor. She tried in vain to raise her from the 
ground, and then in an instant had summoned the 
servant. Together, they placed her on the bed, 
and bathed her face with water. Was it a faint, or 
had that poor, patient sufferer ceased to breathe on 
earth ? Her eyes opened slowly. Gertrude bent 
over her, and caught the words, I am dying ! ” 


6o4 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

She did not ask for any one. Who was there to 
ask for, or to wish for ? 

In a hurried whisper, Gertrude entreated the 
servant to look for sister Sophia, and to bring her 
as quickly as she could. She was not in the house, 
but Sarah hurried rapidly to the house where the 
lady mother resided. Matron Sophia was with her; 
but who dare disturb Miss Dobbs, even for a case 
of life and death ? 

The servant cared little for an individual she had 
never seen, and she had some feeling. Without a 
moment’s hesitation she flew up-stairs, and knocked 
boldly at the door. A tray lay outside, which a 
sister was waiting to take in. It was covered with 
every luxury for the lady mother’s evening meal. 

Sister Sophia answered the impatient knock with 
an angry face, and was closing the door rapidly in 
Sarah’s face, but she found a stronger will than hers 
outside. 

Miss Ellen is dying ! ” exclaimed the girl, in- 
dignantly ; and if you don’t chose to come, you 
can’t say but I ’ve told you.” 

‘‘ God help her ! ” she muttered, as she went down 
the stairs. Some of the leavings of that lady’s 
meals would have saved her life two months 
ago.” 

Miss Dobbs thought the whole affair very un- 


BORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 605 

pleasant, as it certainly was ; but death was a cir- 
cumstance which could not be controlled even by 
her authority. Sister Sophia returned hastily to 
Townsend Villa. The moment she opened the 
door of Ellen’s room, she began to scold her for 
giving way so much, and begged she would rouse 
herself. Gertrude was kneeling beside the bed. 
She raised her eyes coldly when sister Sophia ap- 
proached. You need not trouble yourself, sister 
Sophia. Ellen has made her last exertion, and I 
scarcely think you can rouse her now.” 

Sister Sophia did not forget the look and the 
words for a long time. She returned quickly to 
the lady mother, and Ellen’s lifeless form was at- 
tended by a sister who had some experience of 
such matters. A small scrap of paper was found 
in a little pocket-book, her only earthly possession. 
There was some curiosity to read what appeared 
so fondly treasured. It was her father’s name, and 
evidently had been cut off a letter, probably the last 
she had ever received from him. A date in pencil 
on the outside showed that two years had passed 
since it had been received. 

A telegraph message was instantly sent to Dr. 
Humbletone. He arrived next morning, and, after 
a short interview with Miss Dobbs, was more than 
ever impressed with the idea that she was a mar- 


6o6 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


tyr to the cause. It would, indeed, have been diffi- 
cult to tell whether the Doctor’s commiseration for 
her, or her commiseration for herself was greatest. 
The real facts of the case were never known to 
him, but the imaginary ones were most touching. 
Of course. Miss Dobbs required immediate change 
of scene after such a shock. It was a constant mar- 
vel (to Dr. Humbletone) how she survived under 
her accumulated trials. He doubted not her pro- 
longed life was an answer to prayer. A retired, 
but very beautiful country residence near the sea, 
was just then advertised for sale, and the Doctor, 
who had already thought of it for Miss Dobbs, in- 
stantly wrote to secure it for her. A sister was 
despatched to take immediate possession, and next 
day the lady mother departed for her new resi- 
dence, Doctor Humbletone having promised to 
join her there as soon as the funeral was over. 

The funeral — yes, that was an important matter, 
and Miss Dobbs took care to see that every ar- 
rangement was made about it before she left. Dr. 
Humbletone was deeply touched by her affection- 
ate solicitude for the departed. He really feared 
she quite spoiled the sisters by the excess of her 
maternal tenderness. She certainly was always 
very affectionate to any one who happened to come 
into the room while he was present ; a rare event, 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


607 


however, and their presence was only momentary, 
and never allowed without special orders, as when 
required to bring their meals or attend to the fire. 
On such occasions, they were always addressed in 
the meekest of tones, and by the tender appellation 
of dearest child.’’ 

Sister Ellen, while suffering and dying, had been 
simply an inconvenience ; a subject of unpleasant 
thought, if remembered at all. Sister Ellen, dead, 
was altogether another person. How well the ac- 
count of her funeral sounded in the newspapers ! 
The Doctor tried to get up a great ''function,” 
and felt immensely Catholic as he followed her to 
the grave, and read the service in a brother Trac- 
tarian’s church-yard. The sisters were there, and 
even some were summoned from other houses for 
the occasion. The communion service was cele- 
brated before, but very privately, of course, 
(for fear of the Bishops, who in this dispensation 
have taken the place of the Jews, to the Tractarian 
believers,) and the doctor made a long pause after 
the words, And we also bless Thy holy name for all 
Thy servants departed this life m Thy faith and fearf 
in the " Prayer for the whole state of Christ's Church 
7nilitant here on earth f which was duly understood 
by the initiated, who were comparatively few, and 
very much admired by the uninitiated, to whom 


6o8 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


pride suggested the propriety of appearing as wise 
as their companions. Had Dr. Humbletone been 
asked immediately after the funeral service if he 
approved of prayers for the dead, he would cer- 
tainly have hesitated considerably in his reply. 
The XXII. Article of his church plainly declares 
that ‘‘ Purgatory is a fond thing vainly invented,’' 
and repugnant to the Word of God.” Dr. Hum- 
bletone had edited a work entitled, Prayers for the 
dead for the use of 7ne7nbers of the Church of Eng- 
land'' Did he intend to pray for the dead who 
were in Heaven? or was his charity so extensive 
as to reach to the damned? (We once heard a 
Dissenter say that he believed Judas would be 
saved. We enquired his reason, and were informed, 
curtly, that he had a right to his own private judg- 
ment on such matters, and that he considered his 
view” Scriptural.) But perhaps the Doctor would 
refer us to the first sentence of the Article, and 
would say he quite believed that the '' Romish 
doctrine concerning Purgatory, etc.,” was false, 
but he had his own views on the matter, and the 
souls for whom he prayed were in the Humble- 
tonian purgatory, a region unimagined, except by 
himself, and, therefore, we regret to be unable to 
give our readers any description of this middle 
state,” only we confess ourselves very curious to 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


609 


know what is the use of praying for the dead un- 
less our prayers can benefit them, and what the 
inhabitants of heaven or hell gain by our interces- 
sions. We believe that Catholic theology teaches 
that souls who are in the presence of God can gain 
an addition to their occidental glory by our thanks- 
givings for the graces bestowed on them. But we 
suspect an explanation of this phrase would have 
perplexed the Doctor as much as a lucid account 
of his “ middle state/' 

The next day, the rector of the parish, who was 
an intimate friend of the Doctor’s, was obliged to 
read the burial service over the corpse of a man 
who had died in a fit while in a state of intoxica- 
tion. The individual was an habitual drunkard 
and blasphemer, so that we can scarcely be sur- 
prised if the reverend officiator mumbled the words 
about ‘‘ the sure and certain hope of the resurrec- 
tion to eternal life.” 

The friends of the departed felt it to be an insult 
to his memory, and threatened an action for de- 
famation of character, which, probably, they would 
have gained had they pursued the matter further. 


26* 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

“The law of force is dead ; 

The law of love prevails/’ — Longfellow. 

T was the last day of Whitsun- week, 
and on Trinit}^ Sunday, Catherine Ross- 
more was to be receiv’^ed into the Catholic 
Her mother’s opposition was as little 
heeded as Doctor Thundertone’s sarcastic remarks. 
Lady Errington had prevailed on her to accept a 
prolonged invitation, and in consequence, when they 
removed to Chelmsford Park for the summer, Katie 
accompanied them. It was considered better, as it 
was also more in accordance with her own feelings 
that she should make her abjuration there. 

It was evening, and the sun was setting glorious- 
ly behind the western hills. The shadows from the 
great trees in the park fell softly and darkly on the 
greensward ; and the peculiar stillness, so like silent 
sorrow, which always precedes night-fall in the 
countr}^ was telling itself on all around. Katie had 

(6io) 



church. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 6 1 1 

retired to her room after dinner, and was musing 
with mingled fear and joy on the great event to 
take place on the following day. Who but a convert 
can know the feelings of one about to break all the 
ties of the past, both spiritual and temporal ? That 
day she had made her first confession ; to-morrow, 
she hoped to receive absolution and conditional 
baptism, and more, oh ! a thousand times more, she 
would receive for the first time in her life the Body 
and the Blood of Him who had given His life and 
His Blood to purchase this peace for her. But, 
why that shade of thoughtful sadness on her brow ? 
Why that look of perplexity? Was it doubt? Did she 
not believe ? She did believe, it was not doubt ; 
but the demon of heresy was not yet cast out, and 
he was struggling with the eagerness of despera- 
tion to keep possession of the soul so soon to elude 
his grasp for ever. 

Lady Errington tapped gently at the door, and 
in a moment more was in the room and had folded 
Katie in her arms. “ My child ! she exclaimed, 
“ my precious child ! dear to me even as m}^ own.” 
It was not a time for words, and for some mo- 
ments neither spoke. 

‘‘I can understand all )^ou^ must suffer, Katie,” 
she whispered softly as the poor child burst into 
tears ; I know it all ; but dear, soon it will pass even 


6I2 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


as the shadows of evening, and oh, how beautiful will 
be the light of morning ! Ah ! she exclaimed, 
energetically, after a moment’s pause, ‘‘ those who 
have been always in the fold sometimes almost 
speak as if they envied us; they talk of our fer- 
vor and our zeal; but, Katie, they know not, they 
never can know the struggles, the agonies we must 
endure ere we can take a step which seems to them 
so natural, so right, that they cannot imagine why 
our faith and our feelings are so much at variance. 
They know not the instinctive dread and horror of 
Popery with which every Protestant is imbued from 
childhood. They know not the power this feeling 
has on the mind ; they cannot estimate the amount 
of suffering it invokes even when the reason is con- 
vinced. They have had the grace of their sacra- 
ments from their childhood, and they know not the 
strength it has given them ; they know not how it 
has deepened their faith until it has become almost 
an instinct of their very being ; how it has kindled 
their love until that love seems almost spontaneous. 
But, Katie, you may, and I believe you will credit 
my experience of convert life, when I tell you that 
as years pass on, your daily experience will be that 
the half was not told you. You are in the land of 
darkness, how can you expect to see the light? 
You are on the eve of admission into the one true 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 6 1 3 

fold ; can you wonder if the wolf should make a 
last and most eager struggle to hold you back, and 
if he cannot do this, at least to disturb you ?’' 

Katie looked up and smiled. “ You know well 
what I feel. Lady Errington, but is it not strange, 
that when I feel as if I would die rather than re- 
nounce the faith, when reason is convinced, and 
even my affections have become Catholic, that I 
should have so great, so awful a dread of the very 
step I have so ardently desired ? ” 

It is not strange, Katie, it is natural, and you 
will understand it all after a little. You cannot ex- 
pect that God would reward you with confidence 
until He has seen you act in truth. To some, all is 
joy and peace at such a time, but I scarcely envy 
them. I would think that our dearest Lord would 
let the soul He lov^ed most suffer all that could be 
suffered ; and surely He would not try our faith 
unless He saw in His infinite wisdom that we could 
bear the trial. After all, Katie, you are only suf- 
fering in your feelings; your reason is convinced 
and more than satisfied ; and it may be, the thought 
of your mother, of your poor father, and of others 
whom you have loved, and who you now must feel 
are living or have died in heresy and schism, has 
more to do with your mental sufferings than you 
imagine.” 


6 i 4 HORNE hurst RECTOR Y. 

‘‘ I believe you are right/’ replied Katie, more 
cheerfully. “ Thank God I have not one intellect- 
ual doubt or difficulty ; but even if I had, since God 
has in His infinite mercy given me the grace to be- 
lieve that there is an infallible church, and that the 
Catholic church only can lay claim to that title, I 
would submit my reason and my judgment, for 
surely once we are convinced that the church has 
power to teach all nations, we can have no ques- 
tion about believing her teaching, however con- 
trary it may appear to our reason. 

The sun rose brightly on the following morning. 
The holy sacrifice of the Mass was to be celebrated 
at eight ; and though Katie had at first earnestly 
entreated that no one should be present on the sol- 
emn occasion, she had yielded to the representations 

of Lord Errington and Father , who were 

anxious that the usual congregation, at least, should 
witness so impressive a ceremony. Having sacri- 
ficed her feelings on the subject, Katie was rather 
pleased than otherwise to see the domestic chapel 
so crowded that scarcely another individual could 
have made his way in. There were many Pro- 
testants present ; but they seemed to respect the 
place and the occasion, or, possibly, were on their 
good behaviour from fear of expulsion, as Lord 
Errington had been very strict in not allowing any 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 6 1 5 

one to remain in the chapel at any time who did 
not vShow at least the exterior respect due to any 
place consecrated to the service of Almighty God. 
Katie had worn mourning ever since Mr. Hel- 
more’s death, and Dr. Humbletone had rather 
encouraged her in this, always anticipating that 
she would one day become a Protestant nun, for 
which he thought a sombre attire and melancholy 
disposition the best preparation, as they were the 
usual antecedents. It was not difficult now to 
induce Katie to leave off mourning ; and as she 
passed up the aisle, supported by Lord Errington, 
a murmur of admiration, which she happily mis- 
took for ejaculations of prayer, could scarcely 
be repressed. Her dress was white moire-antique^ 
a present from Lady Errington ; her veil, the gift 
of the noble lord, of the richest material ; a bou- 
quet of the purest and rarest flowers had been 
offered by Mrs. Errington ; nor was little Amy 
behindhand in her desire to add to the offerings 
of the day, and it would have been difficult to tell 
whether her father or Katie was most gratified 
when she selected a white rosary of rare work- 
manship and some value for her dearly loved Miss 
Rossmore. By Amy’s special request, Katie kept 
it in her hand during the solemn service of the 
day, and though she valued it at the time as the 


6i6 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


gift of a child of no common character and affec- 
tion, and still more for the sake of the Immaculate 
One now so dear to her, she little knew how that 
rosary would be treasured in after years. 

The Erringtons had left nothing undone to 
beautify the chapel attached to their family man- 
sion. It had been erected from the designs of Pu- 
gin ; and as no expense was spared in the decora- 
tion, it was an object of interest and attraction 
even to those who were strangers to the noble 
founder. The organ was small ; but its tone was 
surpassingly sweet. Lady Errington, who was an 
accomplished musician, frequently played at Mass 
and Benediction, but a choir had been engaged 
from London for this occasion, and appeared to 
feel an interest and emotion during the ceremony 
that enhanced the value of their services, and gave 
an additional zest to the parts they were engaged 
to sustain. 

But sweet sounds, observing crowds, and kind 
friends were all unheeded by Katie as she knelt 
alone before the altar and softly murmured the 
Veni Creator, which the priest had intoned, and 
the choir were pealing forth in alternate chant and 
harmony. A few moments more and the Miserere, 
the heart-wrung cry of the penitent David, the 
soul utterance of penitents in all ages, was chanted 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


617 

in low and plaintive tones by the priest and his 
attendants. Again and again Katie murmured : 

Miserere ! Have mercy upon me; oh God, have 
mercy ! I wandered, and knew not that I wan- 
dered ; I doubted, and knew not tliat I doubted ; 
I shrank from Thee — from Thee, oh, my dearest 
Lord ! and knew not that what I feared was Truth, 
and what I clung to was error. But now, oh God, 
I know Thee, and I love Thee, and I believe in 
Thee ! Yes ; Thou art there in that Tabernacle as 
truly, as really as Thou wert a Babe in Mary’s 
arms, a dying victim on Calvary’s Cross. Mise^ 
rere I Miserere 

A few versicles followed, and then the priest 
said, Let us pray. 

O Lord, whose property is always to have 
mercy and to spare, receive our supplication, 
that this Thy servant, whom the sentence of ex- 
communication doth bind, the compassion of thy 
goodness may mercifully absolve. Through Christ 
our Lord.” 

A moment more, and in a clear, distinct voice 
Catherine Ro'ssmore pronounced her profession of 
faith. There were few persons present who were 
not moved to tears. Even little Amy seemed to 
feel that there was something deeper in this than 
her child-like heart could fathom. There was a 


6i8 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


solemn pause of some moments when Miss Ross- 
more had ceased to speak. Her voice, so clear 
and beautiful, was echoing itself in the hearts 
around. Some few were thinking of the solemn 
moment when they also had pronounced the same 
words. Others were marvelling at the grace and 
courage of so young a girl ; and not a few, though 
strangers to her circumstances and her motives, 
were admiring what they scarcely understood, or 
secretly asking themselves if their faith was indeed 
as true as they had always believed it to be. The 
Confiteor was then said, and the usual absolution 
given, concluding with the special absolution from 
the chain of excommunication,’' and the restora- 
tion to the communion and unity of the faithful, 
and to the holy sacraments of the church.” 

Again the organ pealed forth its glorious tones, 
and the Te Deum was chanted. A few moments 
more, and the Mass had commenced, and Catherine 
Rossmore bent over her prie dieu filled with a new 
and most glorious emotion. The Mass, — what a 
train of thought the words might have excited ! 
For a moment, just for one moment, she thought 
of the cold service she had so long been accus- 
tomed to consider all that God required. How 
strangely the morning prayers of the Protestant 
Church would have sounded now ! How cold the 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


619 . 

‘‘ Dearly beloved brethren How unmeaning the 
so-called Absolution ! a form of words dignified 
with this title, but so curiously combined as to 
defy an intelligible meaning. It was but a mo- 
ment, for this was no time for musing on the past, 
or remembering it otherwise than to excite an 
ardent thanksgiving that it was past. Realities 
were in her grasp now, and the shadows had 
passed away. Like most converts, she felt sur- 
prised how she could ever have disbelieved a faith 
v/hich now seemed a part of her very life. 

The choir were singing Mozart’s Kyrie (No. 3), 
with its strange mingling of pathetic, entreat- 
ing prayer and almost joyous strains, that will 
burst in at intervals, as if the great composer had 
written his melody in thought of One who loves 
to be implored with tears, and yet who gives in 
proportion to the holy freedom of child-like, trust- 
ing importunity. A moment’s pause, and the priest 
had intoned the Gloria^ and the choir broke forth 
into the magnificent burst of harmony with 
which that portion of the service of No. 12 is 
opened. Truly, Catherine Rossmore felt and ac- 
knowledged in her inmost soul that she was but 
just beginning to know the meaning of the word 
worship.” Here was the poetry of angels, sung 
to the harmonies of those whose power of compo- 


620 ■ 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


sition was the gift of the God of angels ; here was 
the magnificence of art in decoration, and the 
beauty of nature in its sweet scented and richly 
cultivated flowers ; and here more, and better and 
nobler than all, was the intellect of man, the soul 
created unto the image of God, bowing down pros- 
trate before its Creator, and offering Him, not the 
cold homage of formal words, at best but poor 
substitutes for deeper things, but the real worship 
of prostrating his will and his mental powers to 
the mysteries of faith, and adoring, by the great 
sacrifice, that God whose life on earth even in its 
beginning anticipated the holocaust to be consum- 
mated on Calvary. Here was worship indeed and 
in truth ; worship which the prophet Malachi fore- 
told when he declared that ‘‘ from the rising of 
the sun even to the going down,'’ there should be a 
sacrifice offered amongst the Gentiles ; worship 
which Christ had Himself consecrated b}' His 
own act before the consummation of His passion ; 
worship which He had Himself enjoined to His 
creatures when He said, Do this for a commem- 
oration of Me.” 

Soft and low the Pax ” was murmured, like the 
peace which breathes around unconscious inno- 
cence that knows not yet of sin and care. With 
the angels the Sanctus was sung, a fitting preface 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


.621 


for the awful mystery about to be enacted ; and 
sweet and low was the ‘‘ Benedictus qiii vieiit in 
7io7nine Domini i' for the Blessed Himself had 
deigned to descend upon that altar, and to wait 
there to be the food of His creatures. Truly, unless 
Christ Himself were in the Eucharist, the manna 
of the wilderness, the type of the living bread yet 
to come, would have been better than that which 
was prefigured. The Israelites ate bread from 
Heaven. True, it was but bread; still it was not 
earthly, nor of the earth ; it was a heavenly 
manna. Alas ! for those who think that Christ has 
done less for them than He did for their brethren 
of the elder covenant ! Alas ! for those who ask and 
see no bread but the common bread of earth ; who 
know not and believe not that they may eat, not 
merely like the Israel of old, a bread rained down 
from Heaven, but the very flesh of Him who died 
not merely to be their salvation, but also to be 
their life. 

Fitting, indeed, it was that the Lamb of God, 
who taketh away the sin of the world,’' should be 
invoked in accents soft and low ere His creatures 
approached to receive Him into their hearts by no 
figure of speech, by no pious imagination, but 
indeed and in truth. And now He is asked to 
give His people Peace Agnus Dei, qui tollis 


622 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


peccata mundi^ dona nobis pacemP Well might St. 
Antony of Padua exclaim : O, my brothers, 
peace be with you ! peace be with you ! Peace ! 
it is justice. Peace ! it is perfect liberty. Peace ! 
it is unchanging rest.'' 

The crowd of worshippers had passed away, the 
organ had ceased to peal forth its solemn, joyous 
tones ; but Katie still knelt before the altar, ab- 
sorbed in God. After some time Lady Errington 
touched her gently, and begged she would come 
away ; she feared the long fast would be too much 
for her health, which was still delicate, and, com- 
bined with the mental excitement inevitable on 
such an occasion, might produce great exhaustion, 
even if no worse consequences ensued. 

Mr. Errington and Amy were waiting in the 
cloister which led from Lord Errington’s mansion 
to their private entrance to the chapel. With one 
bound the beautiful child leaped into Katie’s arms, 
and murmured her loving words. She had scarcely 
understood the ceremony previous to the celebra- 
tion of the Mass, for heresy and schism were very 
abstract ideas to her mind, and renouncing them 
an incomprehensible subject ; but she did under- 
stand very distinctly that her favorite Katie had 
that day received the Holy Communion for the 
first time, and had asked her grandmamma more 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 623 

than once if she must wait until she was as big as 
Miss Rossmore before the little Jesus came to her. 

For, grandmamma, I could not wait so long ; and 
if He knew I wanted Him so much, I do not think 
He would make me wait.'’ 

It was difficult to make her understand that she 
was too young ; it would have injured her to have 
told her that she was different from other children 
of her age, and probably she would not have under- 
stood it. There was but one resource to stay her 
love and teach it holy patience, and that had never 
failed. Yes, Mary, her sweet Mother Mary, she 
would ask little Jesus to do what was best for her. 
But Lady Errington trembled as she thought what 
the answer to that simple, trusting prayer might 
be. 

It was evening, and Katie was gazing on the 
beautiful landscape from the drawing-room win- 
dows of Chelmsford Park. She was alone, and 
chanted to herself the beautiful hymn — 

“ O lux beata Trinitas.” 

Her voice was singularly clear and sweet, and ad- 
mirably suited to those old Gregorian melodies, 
whose dignity and tenderness of expression can 
never be rivalled by the more elaborate melodies 
of modern times. A very gentle movement in the 


624 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

apartment attracted her attention ; but, thinking it 
was only her little favorite, Amy, she continued 
singing, but, as no one approached, she turned 
round in a few moments to see where Amy was. 

I beg your pardon. Miss Rossmore, for inter- 
rupting you ! said Mr. Errington. Though, per- 
haps/’ he added, smiling, I should rather apologize 
for listening without making my presence known ; 
but, indeed, if you knew what a charm such music 
has for me, I think you would forgive me ! ” 

Indeed, Mr. Errington, there is nothing to for- 
give ! But I really must correct this habit I have 
of singing when I fancy myself alone ; it is not 
every one who will be so charitable in their tolera- 
tion of my peculiarities as my kind friends here.” 

An awkward silence followed. Mr. Errington 
looked as if he wished to say something, and did 
not quite know how to begin ; and Catherine Ross- 
more wished Lady Errington and Amy would re- 
turn to the drawing-room. 

I am going to leave this to-morrow. Miss Ross- 
more, for some months,” observed Mr. Errington, 
abruptly. May I beg your acceptance of a trifling 
remembrance of this day’s most happy events, and 
may I earnestly request a constant remembrance in 
your prayers ? ” 

There was something so serious and so abrupt in 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


625 


Mr. Errington’s commLinication, that Katie felt 
painfully perplexed how to reply ; still she saw that 
he expected her to speak. 

The book he presented her with was a copy of 
the Celestum Pahnatiiin, magnificently bound in 
imitation of the ancient Missal style, and clasped 
with gold. 

The Celestum Palmatum ! she exclaimed. Oh, 
Mr. Errington, I have been wishing for this book 
so much ! I think the originals of a great many of 
the prayers Doctor Humbletone has adapted are in 
it. I will accept it most gratefully,” she added, 
looking up at Mr. Errington with a sweet, confid- 
ing expression, the peculiar charm of her counte- 
nance ; and I will pray for you ; indeed, I am 
bound in common gratitude to pray for every one 
of your family ; but God only can reward your 
kindness.” A large tear started unbidden, and fell 
unheeded by Katie, but not by Mr. Errington. 

At this moment Lady Errington and Amy en- 
tered the room. The little one bounded to her 
father ; and Katie, she knew not why, colored 
deeply as Lady Errington approached. 

I suppose Herbert has been telling you that he 
leaves us to-morrow ? ” she observed, gently, as if 
she was already aware what the subject of con- 
versation had been. 

27 


626 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 


Katie felt obliged to make some reply, but again 
was unusually perplexed, as she feared, from the 
grave manner in which Mr. Errington had ad- 
dressed her, that something serious had happened, 
of which, perhaps, the family might not like her to 
be informed. At last, she ventured to say, I hope, 
Mr. Errington, you will not be long absent.’' 

It depends on — ” (he paused) “on circum- 
stances,” he continued, after a moment, “over which 
I have no control. I have promised to join Mr. 
Langdale in Paris, and probably will go on with 
him to Rome.” 

“ I heard from him this morning,” replied Katie ; 
“ but he does not mention anything of his plans. 
He only says I may still address at the same poste 
restanter 

The Benediction bell rang at this moment, and 
as Katie needed no persuasion now to go where the 
“ little Jesus gave the people His blessing,” she was 
soon kneeling in the chapel ; and, though her place 
was between Lady Errington and her son, she for- 
got their presence, and the presence of all around. 
How could she think of any one, however dear, on 
such a day and at such a moment, when the Good 
Shepherd who had brought her to His fold was 
waiting to give her His first benediction in it! 


CHAPTER XLIV. 


“ My Redeemer and my Lord, 

I beseech Thee, I entreat Thee, 

Guide me in each act and word. 

That hereafter I may meet Thee, 

Watching, waiting, hoping, yearning. 

With my lamp well trimmed and burning.” 

— Golden Legends. 


HE circumstances connected with Infant 
Ellen's death had made a most painful 
impression on Gertrude Helmore. The 
life she liv^ed was hard enough to bear, but the 
prospect of such a death she could not face ; and 
what else could she expect, if she remained in her 
present position? To leave it at once and finally 
was her immediate determination, but to effect her 
purpose was by no means so easy. 

It is true, she had made no vows, and the doors 
were never bolted or barred except at night, so 
that both spiritually and morally it appeared as if 
an act of her own free will was all that could be 
required to effect her release ; but circumstances 
often prove a far more formidable obstacle to action 

(627) 



628 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


than any material or spiritual force. Gertrude had 
not made vows, but she had an instinctive idea that 
she was bound to the life of a Protestant sister, 
though she could have given no definite reason for 
her opinion, nor even explained it satisfactorily to 
herself. She had chosen this state from a conscien- 
tious motive, and it was hard indeed for her to 
decide whether the disappointment it had caused, 
and the suffering it involved, were sufficient reasons 
for renouncing it. 

The difficulties of her position were such as could 
scarcely be estimated or even fully understood by 
persons who have not experienced a like trial. If 
she left Miss Dobbs’ establishment, she must not 
only abandon a state of life to which she believed 
God had called her, but she must also act in open 
defiance of her spiritual guide. 

She knew well what Doctor Humbletone’s reply 
would be, were it possible for her to obtain an in- 
terview with him, and how could she dare to take 
the responsibility of such a step on herself ? 
So much might depend on how she acted now ; and 
yet who would guide her to act aright ? It might 
be a temptation, but if so, surely in a place purport- 
ing to be a religious house there ought to have 
been some one to guide and help her, and yet she 
knew but too well there was not one. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 629 

After some hours of miserable anxiety, she went 
to the small garden at the rear of the house. The 
servant was placing out some linen, and as Gertrude 
passed, she informed her that Miss Dobbs was to 
leave in a few hours, and that Doctor Humbletone 
was with her ; but she believed he was to stay till 
after poor Miss Ellen's funeral. “ It would be made 
a great affair," she said. “ God help the poor corpse ! 
as if they could do that any good now ! Why 
did n’t they mind her while she was living, and not 
make so much fuss when she was dead ? ’’ 

“ Are you going up to the House, soon, again ?" 
enquired Gertrude as a sudden idea struck her. 

“ Just in half an hour," replied the girl. There’s 
a deal to do getting the Lady Superior’s dinner 
and the Doctor’s. I think they ’ll miss poor Miss 
Ellen some of these days. It isn’t every one will 
work as hard and as fast for them as she would." 

Gertrude went back to her room, and in a few 
moments returned with a note directed to the lady 
superior, which she earnestly requested the ser- 
vant would take with her, and, if possible, not trust 
it out of her own hands, unless she could find an 
opportunity of placing it where Miss Dobbs must 
see it, and as she always went down into the gar- 
den once. or twice in the day, this was not quite im- 
possible. 


630 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


The girl promised to do her best, and Gertrude 
retired to her room with a beating heart. Sister 
Sophia did not appear until evening, and as Ger- 
trude only saw her in the oratory, she could not 
satisfy her anxiety by ascertaining the result of her 
bold attempt. 

The servant returned at a late hour, and then 
informed Gertrude that she had seen Miss Dobbs 
take the letter in her hand, so she was sure it had 
reached its destination. A sleepless, anxious night 
followed. Dr. Humbletone was remaining in the 
town with some friends, and once ^he thought of 
trying to get a letter sent to him, but it was impos- 
sible. The servant seemed doubtful of his address, 
and even if she wrote, what good could come of it? 
On the afternoon of the following day, her suspense 
was in some degree relieved. Sister Sophia came 
to her room, and in her usual rough, ungracious 
manner, told her to put up. her things at once, as 
the lady superior had given orders for her to go 
to London by the next train, with sister Mildred. 
'' Is sister Mildred here?” enquired Gertrude, in a 
tone of pleased surprise. A laconic '^Yes,” was 
the only reply vouchsafed, and sister Sophia turned 
to leave the room. But Gertrude had determined 
at all hazards to know the fate of her letter. She 
had written determinedly and decidedly, to say 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


631 


she would leave Miss Dobbs' establishment, and 
enclosing a short note to her mother, requesting 
that money might be sent to pay her expenses 
home. No reason for her determination was as- 
signed in either letter. To speak of her feelings 
and trials to Miss Dobbs would have been useless, 
and to write any explanation to her relatives she 
feared would effectually prevent the transmission 
of her letter. 

I wrote to the lady superior saying I had de- 
termined on leaving her establishment,” said Ger- 
trude, holding sister Sophia back, and closing the 
door. I wish to know if she received my let- 
ter ?” 

‘‘ Indeed, Gertrude,'! know nothing about such 
matters,” replied the sister, evasively ; and I think 
you ought to have more consideration for dearest 
mother’s feelings, than to add to her trials at such 
a time as this.” 

I was not aware she was in any trouble,” ob- 
served Gertrude, coldly, unless you allude to 
poor Ellen’s death, which can scarcely be any great 
affliction to a person who showed such indifference 
for her sufferings while she was alive.” 

'‘You do not understand our superior,” replied 
sister Sophia, with an attempt at dignity, and an 
effort to be amiable, as she had been desired to 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


632 

conciliate Gertrude as much as possible. ^‘You 
do not understand our superior. But I trust in 
time you will become more enlightened as you 
advance in the spiritual life. You are by no means 
aware of her tender anxiety for all her children. 
Poor Ellen's death was really so sudden, so unex- 
pected, it has been quite a shock to us all. And, 
indeed, it ought also to be a warning, for I am 
quite convinced if she had tried to exert herself 
more, it would not have happened." 

Sister Sophia looked up as she spoke, and saw a 
look of such contemptuous unbelief in Gertrude’s 
face, that she continued, hastily, But you will be 
late, Gertrude, if you are not quick in your prepa- 
rations. The train leaves in an hour. You, at 
least, have every cause for gratitude to dearest 
mother, when you consider her thoughtfulness in 
making this arrangement for you before she left. 
You will be with a sister to whom you are attached, 
and in a house where the rule is not so strict as it is 
here, so I trust your health will improve, and — ’’ 

A gentle tap was heard at the door, and sister 
Mildred’s kind old face showed itself, as she ex- 
claimed, Come, Gertrude, and as quickly as you 
can. It is a long walk to the train, and you know' 
I am not very young, and I hear you have not been 
strong, so w^e must take it quietly.’’ 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


633 


It was a long and weary walk, but at last the 
terminus was reached, and the railway carriage, 
uncomfortable as it was, seemed a real rest and re- 
lief. The train did not arrive in London until 
eleven o’clock at night, and an hour’s drive had 
then to be made ere the two sisters reached the 
place where they hoped to remain for the night. 
A small house in the suburbs of London had been 
lately engaged by Miss Dobbs, and several sisters 
were living there. Midnight tolled from a neigh- 
boring steeple as sister Mildred dismissed the cab- 
man and entered the gate of the little garden in 
front of the house. After some delay the door was 
cautiously opened ; sister Mildred entered and de- 
sired Gertrude to remain in the porch outside. 
In ten minutes she returned and told her com- 
panion that they were to go to a large public hotel 
at some distance. 

Pity for sister Mildred, who seemed quite un- 
prepared for this unexpected order, and who was 
doing her best to hide the tears that fell fast from 
her eyes, alone prevented Gertrude from indig- 
nant exclamations. At that hour, and in such a 
locality, it was impossible to get a cab, and, worse 
still, neither of the sisters had the least idea how to 
find their way to the hotel to which they were or- 
dered to proceed. An hour’s walk and the kind- 
27* 


634 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


ness of a policeman, brought them to their desti- 
nation. The hotel was attached to a railway sta- 
tion, one of the largest and most frequented of its 
class. But amongst the numbers who flocked in 
and out at all hours, perhaps two more miserable 
beings had never entered its precincts. To accept 
the first bedroom that was offered them, and to 
conceal themselves from the curious gaze of travel- 
lers, porters, chamber-maids and waiters was their 
only anxiety. Sister Mildred was soon asleep, but 
Gertrude lay awake until dawn, and then only 
snatched a few moments' restless, uneasy slumber. 
With some deliberation sister Mildred ventured on 
ordering breakfast, and a private sitting-room, but 
when hours passed away and still she would not, 
or could not, give Gertrude any information as to 
their destination, the uneasiness of the latter 
amounted to positive terror, which reached its 
climax when she ascertained that her companion 
had not a single penny to pay any bill that might 
be presented to them. To leave the little par- 
lor in which they had breakfasted, was positive 
terror, as their peculiar dress could not but attract 
observation from the crowds who passed and re- 
passed in the corridors and stairs. A thousand 
times Gertrude vowed, if once released from her 
present position, that she would never again ex- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


635 


pose herself to such a danger, and a thousand times 
she planned and re-planned some present mode of 
escape. Two insuperable difficulties presented 
themselves. She dreaded a demand for the bill 
due if she attempted to leave the hotel, and feared 
she would be arrested for a swindler, even if sister 
Mildred remained behind ; and she feared even 
more than this, that she might be doing wrong if 
she, by her own act, freed herself from her position. 
Her reason for this was little else than a supersti- 
tious idea. When she wrote to Miss Dobbs, she 
had made up her mind that if her desire of leaving 
had been accepted by that lady, she would con- 
sider that she had done right in making an attempt 
to return to the world ; but if considerable ob- 
stacles were placed in her way, she would take it 
as a sign that it was God’s will for her to remain 
where she was. That Miss Dobbs had received 
her letter, she could have no reasonable doubt, and 
the evident wish that it should be passed over un- 
noticed, seemed to her too plain an indication of 
Providence to be mistaken. To be guided by 
such exterior circumstances may seem to some 
persons unnatural, or even ridiculous. But be it 
remembered that Gertrude Helmore’s one great 
desire was to do whatever she believed would be 
most pleasing to God ; that she had already made 


636 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

a sacrifice of home and friends, and even of one to 
whom she had formed the tenderest attachment, 
for this end; that she believed she could not, and 
ought not to guide herself in the spiritual life ; and 
when the guidance which had hitherto supported 
her failed, she saw no other resource but to follow 
the apparent indications of Providence. It was the 
error of a docile mind ; of one who had received 
light enough to know that God had appointed 
guides to teach and lead his people in the way of 
life, and submission enough to be willingly thus 
guided and taught. 

As evening approached, sister Mildred herself 
seemed to participate in some measure in Ger- 
trude’s anxiety. Perhaps the absolute necessity 
which she saw for endeavoring to calm her com- 
panion, alone prevented her from expressing her 
own feelings. At length, their suspense was reliev- 
ed. A small packet was delivered by a waiter to 
the elder lady, and she was informed that a person 
was waiting at the door in a cab, and requested a 
reply. Sister Mildred hastily opened the letter ; it 
contained some money and a small note. In a few 
moments she had written a brief answer, and as 
she handed it to the waiter she requested he would 
furnish their account, and have a cab at the door in 
about ten minutes. In answer to Gertrude's anx- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


637 

ious enquiries, she merely said that they were to 
go by the next train to a village about thirty miles 
from London, where they had been ordered to re- 
main for the present. 

It was late in the evening before their destination 
was reached, and as Gertrude heard the railway por- 
ter announcing their arrival at Chelmsford, she lit- 
tle imagined how near she was to her dearest friend. 
Catherine Rossmore had found so many difficulties 
placed in the way of their correspondence, and 
laterly had such serious reason to doubt whether 
her letters ever reached Gertrude, that she had al- 
together ceased to write ; but, although their cor- 
respondence was thus interrupted, their affection 
was undiminished, and since Katie’s reception into 
the church she had not ceased to pray and to re- 
quest prayers for her friend’s conversion. 

The poor cottage which the sisters reached after 
a long drive, was situated on a lonely common. It 
had been very lately occupied by some member of 
Miss Dobbs’ establishment, and, consequently, was 
not altogether uninhabitable. The fresh air, the 
green grass, the clear sky, and the comparative 
freedom from restraint, all told beneficially on Ger- 
trude’s mental and bodily powers, and sister Mil- 
dred saw with pleasure, after a few days, that her 
health and spirits were decidedly improved. They 


638 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


said the office together, walked together, and con- 
versed without restraint on all subjects but one. 
By tacit consent. Miss Dobbs’ name was never 
mentioned. Gertrude soon discovered, or rather 
suspected that their stay would be but temporary. 
Where her next move would be she could not even 
imagine, and sister Mildred was either as ignorant 
as herself, or was unwilling to give her any infor- 
mation on the subject. 

A week had passed in peaceful monotony. Sister 
Mildred wrote nearly all day, and Gertrude wan- 
dered alone in the green retired lanes, or now and 
then visited a poor dying girl, who, the woman from 
whom they procured the key of the cottage, infjrm- 
ed them, had been attended occasionally by the 
‘‘ other lady.” From this person Gertrude ascer- 
tained that the other lady’s ” flight had been sud- 
den and somewhat unexpected ; and, moreover, that 
she had left the cottage the morning of the day 
they arrived. 

A word of sister Mildred’s occupation, before we 
proceed further. 

It will be remembered that Miss Dobbs had com- 
posed a rule for the benefit of the individuals under 
her maternal care, and that this was the production 
of her own unaided intellect ; though she was sup- 
posed by some of her followers to have been assist- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


639 


ed therein by some species of inspiration, as unde- 
finable as Doctor Humbletone’s middle state. Her 
next care was to furnish them with an emended 
edition of the Roman Breviary, but there was one 
insuperable difficulty in the way ; Miss Dobbs did 
not understand a single word of Latin. How then, 
was she to accomplish her task A happy idea 
suggested itself as she mused a little disconsolately 
on the difficulty, and it was immediately carried 
into action. 

Sister Mildred was really a good Latin scholar, 
she had been educated by a tutor with her brothers, 
an 1, consequently, while she was deficient in accom- 
plishments, excelled in attainments seldom even at- 
tempted by her sex. Miss Dobbs knew she could 
bind her to secrecy, and, moreover, that she could 
trust her with a real Roman Breviary so sister 
Mildred set to work to translate antiphones, invi- 
tatories, responses and lessons, with as much ex- 
pedition as a work of such magnitude would permit. 
Sister Mildred received orders to translate as liter- 
ally as possible, and, as each portion was complete, to 
transmit her manuscript to the lady mother. The 
great work of correction then began. Miss Dobbs 
sat in solemn judgment on the saints, and selected 
such as she considered either sufficiently safe, or 
sufficiently expedient for her purpose. To conceal. 


640 H 0 RNE-HURS 7 ' RECTOR F. 

as far as possible, sister Mildred’s rather important 
share in the work, and to give greater weight to 
her own, she procured at considerable expense, a 
quantity of the finest vellum, and having cut this 
into strips of various sizes, wrote thereon such por- 
^ tions of the office as she considered '' sound,” for 
the use of the 'sisters. The work proceeded slowly, 
but in the meantime, the psalms (Protestant version, 
of course) were printed, with some antiphones for 
vespers, compline an ' the hours of prime, tierce, 
sext and none. The office of matins and lauds 
were said without lessons. 

With the exception of Mildred, the sisters were 
in happy ignorance of the alterations and adapta- 
tations. They were aware that priests and nuns 
said some prayers every day, which were designat- 
ed by the generic name of office. Some had 
heard the name Breviary, but it conveyed no dis- 
tinct idea to their minds. All were prepared, how- 
ever, to respect such a practice of piety, and, as 
they considered themselves nuns, supposed they 
ought to use it. It is strange how much is taken 
for granted, and believed on the mere assertion of 
others. It never occurred to a single member of 
Miss Dobbs’ establishment to enquire what the 
Breviary really was, and probably Gertrude would 
have remained in the same ignorance as her com- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


641 


panions, had she not seen the mysterious name on 
the volume which sister Mildred appeared so anx- 
ious to conceal. 

How much prejudice and misconception would 
be avoided, how much sin prevented, if persons 
would enquire for themselves, and hesitate at least 
before they accept the statements of individuals 
whose interest it is to represent Popery in the most 
false colors. 

If an English translation of the Breviary could 
be placed in the hands of those who are accustomed 
to hear it described as a volume of superstitious 
tales, of childish legends, nay, even of immoral 
reading, would not ocular demonstration convince 
them how little their great speakers or religious 
preachers could be trusted 1 In vain would they seek 
to find in that volume what they have so long believ^- 
ed it to contain. And though they might disapprove 
of occasional prayers asking the assistance* of the 
saints, of occasional expressions proclaiming our 
belief in, and thanksgiving for, the great things 
that God has done for them ; surely they could 
not but approve and admire the psalms of David, a 
considerable portion of which it enjoins for daily 
repetition, and the lessons from the holy gospels, 
mostly the words of Christ himself, with a short 
commentary from St. Augustine or some other 


642 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


father. True, they would find occasionally some 
portions of the life of a saint, some account of the 
miracles he performed, or the works of charity in 
which he excelled ; but if these be objectionable, 
why accept the Acts of the Apostles, which are but 
a continuous narration of supernatural events and 
saintly lives ? 

One afternoon, when Gertrude returned from a 
prolonged visit to the invalid, she found sister Mil- 
dred in a state of unusual excitement. A tele- 
graphic message had just been delivered at the cot- 
tage, ordering her to proceed instantly to London, 
As her companion’s name was not mentioned, she 
concluded Miss Dobbs intended her to remain at 
, but she was not without misgivings as to Ger- 
trude’s acquiescence in this arrangement. After 
some moments’ debate the latter consented to await 
sister Mildred’s return or further orders, on con- 
dition that she should not be left altogether alone. 
The old woman before mentioned readily agreed to 
occupy sister Mildred’s room, and in half an hour 
that lady was on her way to London. 

Gertrude had time enough now for lonely mus- 
ing. She ascertained that the sister who had occu- 
pied the cottage previous to her arrival had lived 
entirely alone, and was not without misgivings that 
such an obedience might be required from her, ah 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


643 

though she had informed her companion very de- 
cidedly that if she did not return in a day or two 
at furthest, she would find an empty house, as it 
was her fixed determination to submit no longer to 
such capricious arrangements. 

The following day was Sunday ; but Gertrude 
preferred reading the morning prayers at home to 
going alone to church. Although the place was 
retired, there was usually a large congregation, and 
the peculiar dress of the sisters was of course a 
subject of comment and observation. The clergy- 
man tolerated rather than allowed their presence, 
and this, with many other circumstances, made 
Gertrude feel her isolated position most painfully. 
After some reflection, however, she thought it bet- 
ter to go in the afternoon; her absence might be 
remarked, as it was known she was in the cottage ; 
so she sacrificed her feelings to what seemed a 
duty. 

There were but few at the afternoon service. 
The heat was oppressive, and the exertion of a 
walk after dinner by no means agreeable. As she 
returned slowly through a long and shady lane she 
suddenly became conscious that a carriage was 
rapidly approaching. It was an unpleasant posi- 
tion, for she knew her dress must attract attention ; 
and moreover the road was so narrow that she was 


644 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


^obliged to press against the bank and remain 
standing there while the vehicle passed. It was a 
painful and annoying circumstance, and she scarcely 
appreciated the consideration of the coachman, 
who appeared anxious to save her from unnecessary 
alarm by driving the horses past as .quietl}^ and 
slowly as possible. In her fright she had forgotten 
to lower her veil, so that her features were distinctly 
visible ; but as she did not raise her eyes she could 
make no observation on the occupants of the car- 
riage. 

A moment and she felt inexpressibly relieved that 
it had passed her. A moment more and the exclam- 
ation, Oh, Lady Errington ! it is, it must be, Ger- 
trude uttered by a voice still fondly remembered, 
renewed her embarrassment, even while she could 
not but rejoice to hear once more some kind, familiar 
accent. 

The friends were locked in a long and fond em- 
brace, and as Gertrude positively refused to enter 
the carriage, Katie decided, on walking with her to 
her temporary home. Lady Errington promised 
that she would call for her after a short drive. 

How much was told, how much explained, how 
much said, in that short half hour ! 

“Oh, Gertrude!” exclaimed Katie, when they 
were seated in the little room, at once parlor and 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 645 

kitchen, and indeed the only habitable room'in the 
cottage — '‘Oh, Gertrude! if you could but know 
what it is to be a Catholic. Words cannot tell; 
books cannot explain ; the heart, and the heart only, 
can know the reality it has found ; the peace, the 
joy, the rest.’' 

" But, Dr. Humbletone, Katie, what did he say?” 
inquired Gertude, anxiously. 

Alas ! how many besides Gertrude had asked the 
same question ; had feared his power, his stern look, 
his awful denunciations, his indignant sarcasms, 
and had bartered their peace on earth, and, per- 
haps, their eternal salvation, for his approving 
smile. 

" What did he say ? Why, Gertrude, what could 
he say, but that he was right, and I was wrong ? 
Any dissenting minister would do the same.” 

" I cannot understand you, Katie,” replied Ger- 
trude, reproachfully, and almost bitterly ; " 1 can- 
not understand you ; but I believe it is the way 
with all converts; they despise and ridicule what 
they once most deeply valued, and having taken a 
false step in self-will, endeavor to justify them- 
selves at the expense of all they once held most 
sacred. The Bible tells you to ' hear the church,’ 
and ' to obey those who have the rule over you, 
because they must give an account of your soul at 


646 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


the last da3^' How then can you justify yourself 
in disobeying the plain commands of Scripture T' 
'‘You are mistaken, Gertrude, if you think I, or 
any other convert, could despise or ridicule what 
we once valued. It is true we no longer bow down 
to the opinion of one or two individuals who once 
represented the church to our imagination, because 
we have now submitted to the church itself ; and it 
is also true that we cannot profess veneration for a 
form of religion which, though calling itself a 
church, is most singularly deficient in one great 
feature which should mark the true church, I mean 
unity of faith. Why, Gertrude, there is more unity 
in a Baptist connexion or independent congrega- 
tion than in the so-called church of England. The 
Baptist has some definite form of belief in which all 
agree who belong to his persuasion ; but you and 
I know too well and too painfully this is far from 
being the case in the church of which you are 
a member. Take the great question of the Sacra- 
ments in which you so believe, and ask yourself is 
there anything like unity of belief on those mo- 
mentous subjects. Is it not already declared that 
baptismal regeneration is an open question, so 
that in one parish a clergyman may teach that the 
little infant he has just baptized is regenerated, and 
a mile off a brother minister may loudly de- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


647 


nounce his doctrine as Popish, and declare that the 
sacrament is but an edifying ceremony. Both 
opinions cannot be equally true, and yet both are 
not only tolerated but allowed in the Protestant 
establishment. Oh ! Gertrude, dearest, believe me, 
I would not for worlds say what would give you 
pain, but I must speak. God knows if ever we 
may have such an opportunity again. Perhaps this 
has come as an answer to your pra3^ers, to your 
earnest desires to do right, to your sufferings, for I 
see but too plainly that you are suffering ; 3^011 are 
sadW altered.'’ 

For a few moments Gertrude did not reply. She 
was weeping bitterly. Katie’s presence had brought 
back memories of the past, and it seemed like a 
strange, wild dream, mingling with a present of 
painful doubt and uncertainty. 

Oh, Katie !” she exclaimed, '' if I knew what 
was right, if I knew what I ought to do. How can I 
tell whether your visit is a temptation or a guid- 
ance? You would tell me to inquire into the 
grounds of the Catholic faith. Doctor Humbletone 
would say that one word of inquiry, one glance at 
a Catholic book, was a deadl3^ sin ; a sin of pride 
and presumption which might lead me to eternal 
ruin. How can I know what is right ?” 

‘‘ Gertrude, Doctor Humbletone is not the church. 


648 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


If he were it would be your bounden duty to obey 
his dictates without question, and to receive from 
him your form of belief. I know what you feel and 
suffer, for I have felt and suffered it myself. It is 
the experience of most converts. But, dearest one, 
let us look quietly at the case. Your continual 
argument is, that you should remain in your 
church, not because you believe it to be the one, 
true, infallible church, but because you think your- 
self bound to obey Dr. Humbletone, and he forbids 
you to inquire. But what right has he to claim 
your obedience, or to exercise this control over you ? 
It is an important question, Gertrude, and one you 
are bound in conscience to answer to yourself He 
is a minister of a church which does not even lay 
claim to infallibility ; and even if it did, a glance at 
its prayer-book, articles and homilies would show 
that its opinions were as undefined as the most ar- 
dent admirer of free-thinking could desire. If his 
church is not infallible, what right has he to forbid 
your inquiring whether there is an infallible church 
elsewhere, and whether that church which you 
know lays claim to infallibility, is so or not ? Surely 
you cannot think Dr. Humbletone is personally in- 
fallible ; and surely you do not for one moment 
suppose you are infallible yourself To what au- 
thority then are you submitting when you obey an 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


649 

individual who is not a priest of the Holy Catholic 
church, and who differs from the teachings of his 
own church even on matters of faith ? If you are 
guided by Doctor Humbletone merely because you 
think his opinions right, you are simply in the posi- 
tion of any individual who ‘ sits under’ Mr. B 

or Mr. C because he thinks Mr. B- or Mr. 

C preaches the pure gospel. 

Oh, Gertrude ! if people only thought as deep- 
ly and as anxiously about their faith, as they do 
about their temporal affairs ; if they even believed 
the truth of God worth as much time and attention 
as scientific research, there would be fewer infidels, 
and fewer heretics. A calm, serious, thoughtful 
mind could scarcely fail to see that there is no 
choice between the personal infallibility of dissent, 
where every man is his own guide, where opinions 
on the most solemn articles of faith are as various 
as the minds who think themselves at liberty to be- 
lieve or disbelieve as they will, and the entire sub- 
mission of will and intellect and judgment to an in- 
fallible guide, appointed by God Himself to save 
His weak but beloved children from the snares of 
heresy and the perils of a false belief.” 

So deeply were both interested in the conversa- 
tion that they scarcely noticed Lady Errington’s 
gentle tap at the door, until it was repeated more 
28 


650 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


loudly. She had observed Gertrude’s evident shrink- 
ing from notice, and had most considerately left her 
carriage at a short distance, and proceeded on foot 
to the lonely cottage. Her gentle, affectionate 
manner reassured Gertrude, and it was with diffi- 
cult}^ the poor girl could resist her earnest entreaties 
to accompany herself and Katie to Chelmsford 
Park. 

At least, you will allow us to call again to-mor- 
row ? ” said Lady Errington, kindly ; and if your 
companion has not returned, we will hope to bring 
you home with us. You need see no one but Katie, 
if you prefer it ; and, indeed, there is a room next 
to hers which you could occupy entirely, and be 
as much retired and even more so than you are 
here.” 

Gertrude could not reply. It was a hard strug- 
gle, and she burst into tears. It was Lady Erring- 
ton’s kind arm that was round her — Lady Erring- 
ton’s gentle voice that was endeavoring to console 
her. 

A moment, and Gertrude was herself again. 
With something of her old grace of manner, she 
thanked her for this most unexpected kindness, but 
positively and almost sternly refused to accept the 
invitation, and earnestly begged that they would 
not call again at the cottage. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K 65 I 

‘‘ I am sure sister Mildred will return,” she said ; 
‘‘and if she were here, I could not see you.” 

Slowly and sadly the two ladies left the cottage, 
and joined Lord Errington, who was walking on 
the common with little Amy. Had they seen Ger- 
trude at that instant, perhaps they would not hav^e 
left the house that night. She had locked the door 
inside, and thrown herself on the ground in an 
agony of grief — such an agony as those only could 
understand who have suffered a trial like hers. 
Had she resisted a temptation, or had she lost, per- 
haps forever, an opportunity of knowing something 
of the Catholic faith ? One thing only was certain. 
She had made a sacrifice of no common extent 
when she refused the sympathy and companionship 
so earnestly offered to her, and preferred the lone- 
liness and misery of her present position, because 
she could not yet see that it was her duty to aban- 
don the life in which she had suffered so much. 

The shades of evening had closed around, and 
the old woman who slept in the cottage at night 
had knocked loudly at the door, before Gertrude 
arose from the ground. The poor woman soon 
discovered that the lady had not got her tea, and 
hastened off to boil a kettle at the nearest cottage. 
As Gertrude was occupying herself in the few prep- 
arations necessary for her evening meal, her eye 


652 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


fell on a small, but brightly-bound volume, which 
lay on the ground beside the chair which Katie had 
occupied during her visit. She opened the book 
timidly, and her eye fell on the words of a hymn — 

“ When obstacles and trials seem 
Like prison walls to be, 

I’ll do the little I can do, 

And leave the rest to Thee.” 

A glance at the picture of Mary and the Infant 
Jesus, on the first leaf of the book, and another at 
the title-page, told her it was a Catholic book. For 
a moment she hesitated to keep it in her possession ; 
another moment, and it was hidden in the folds of 
her dress, as approaching footsteps were heard. 
Her meal was quickly dispatched, and the old 
woman sent to bed. It was still light — the soft, 
calm light of a summer evening. There was a large 
tree outside the cottage-door, and Gertrude took 
her new-found treasure there, and read until the 
twinkling stars and the damp dew warned her that 
it was time to seek shelter from the heavy mist 
rapidly rising from the valley below the common. 

Early the next day sister Mildred returned. She 
appeared worn and depressed, but gave no informa- 
tion to her companion as to where she had been 
during her absence. Orders were given her, she 
said, that they should go by the next train to Lon- 


HORNE HURST RECTOR K 


653 


don ; but, seeing an expression of anything but 
acquiescence on Gertrude's countenance, she hastily 
added that they were to occupy a house in one of 
the suburbs which had lately been inhabited by the 
sisters, and where, she was sure, they would be 
very happy, as there was daily service in a church 
close by, and many poor and sick to be visited in 
the parish. 

A few hours found them once more in London. 
The house was respectable and habitable, aivi, on 
the whole, Gertrude was well satisfied with the 
arrangement. Her interview with Katie had in- 
fluenced her almost more than she was aware. She 
had formed a calm determination to ascertain what 
the Catholic Church taught, as far as was possible 
in her present position, and she began by fixing on 
certain prayers which she determined to say daily, 
with her whole heart, to obtain from God the only 
grace she desired — the grace to know what He de- 
signed His creatures should believe in order to 
their salvation. But though prayer was her first 
object, she was well aware that her efforts must not 
end there. 

For hours she sat thinking in her lonely room, 
until her very head ached and her brain reeled, 
from the excess of her mental anxiety. Again and 
again she read and compared the prayer-book and 


654 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

the Bible, and each comparison and consideration 
convinced her more deeply that the prayer-book 
and the Bible did not agree on the most important 
subjects. 

Except the poor, whom she visited almost daily, 
she had no intercourse with any one. Miss Dobbs 
had given orders that she should remain entirel}" 
in her room, and take her meals there ; and had 
forbidden sister Mildred to speak to her, unless 
when a word was absolutely necessary. The order 
was literally obeyed. A servant brought Gertrude 
her meals, which she took in silence and alone, and 
thus, in almost unbroken solitude, she lived for 
months. More than once she felt as if her mental 
powers must give way under this fearful trial, and she 
became at length so nervous that she dreaded even 
in church lest she should lose all self-control, and 
give way to the wild, hysterical feeling that seemed 
daily increasing. But there was a sweet Providence 
around her, even while she felt herself most aban- 
doned by it. In moments of the wildest agony, when 
she felt as if madness must supervene, and as if even 
madness would be better than conscious misery, the 
thought of the Blessed Sacrament of Jesus, hidden 
in the Tabernacle, had a power to soothe beyond all 
else. That little book of hymns had done a blessed 
work for her. Her intellect had long been con- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


6SS 


vinced, though she herself was by no means aware 
of it ; but her heart had yet to become Catholic. 
She believed that God had appointed a Church, an 
infallible Church, to guide and teach His people ; 
she knew that the Church of England could not be 
this guide ; she believed firmly in baptismal regen- 
eration, and in the real presence of our Divine Lord 
in the Sacrament of Love ; for she could see no 
medium between believing that the Communion 
was mere bread and wine, or believing literally 
what Christ Himself declared, that it was His 
Body and His Blood. Early prejudice, old asso- 
ciations, the undefined, nameless horror of Popery 
that every Protestant feels, these alone remained, 
with some misgivings about the Mass, which she 
did not understand, and some shrinking from devo- 
tion to the Blessed Virgin, which also needed ex- 
planation. Day by day she read the simple, touching 
hymns contained in the little volume, of which she 
had so fortunatel}^ obtained possesion ; and day by 
day her heart became more and more Catholic. If 
she could not as yet say — 

“ Mother of mercy, day by day 
My love of thee grows more and more,” 


she certainly felt that it must be right to love her 
who had been, nay who was, so inexpressibly dear 


656 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


to Jesus. And if she could not yet sympathize with 
the ardent devotion contained in the hymn — 

“ Had I but Mary’s sinless heart — ” 

she, nevertheless, unconsciously deepened in love 
and veneration for the adorable sacrament of the 
altar. 

One morning, a heavy shower had prevented her 
from visiting a poor man who was dying, and who 
she knew would be much disappointed if the day 
passed without her accustomed visit. 

Toward evening the storm had cleared off, and 
she determined to set out on her mission of love. 
While she was speaking to the invalid, his wife ob- 
served that it was getting late, and kindly offered 
to see Gertrude home, as she said it was ‘‘no hour 
for a young lady like her to be about the streets 
alone.” 

To please the woman, she consented, but could 
scarcely repress a smile when she remembered how 
often, at much more unseasonable hours, the sisters 
had been out, without any protection except the 
Providence of God, and the guidance of a blessed 
spirit whose existence was almost ignored. As 
they returned rapidly to Henry street, Gertrude 
observed that the streets were different to those 
she had usually traversed, and as they passed a 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


657 


large, monastic-looking building, with a handsome 
church attached to it, she inquired if the woman 
knew to whom it belonged. 

Mrs. Taylor was not quite sure, but she thought 
they were Romans, and believed some strange gen- 
tlemen had come to live in the large building. The 
woman spoke doubtfully ; for, like most of the poor 
whom the sisters visited, she had misgivings as to 
the religious belief of the ladies, and was cautious 
lest she might give offense. None but the very 
poorest ever applied for relief to the sisters, and 
they would fain have concealed even from their 
neighbors the peculiarly dressed persons who ad- 
ministered to their temporal necessities, and whose 
presence and advice was only tolerated for the sake 
of the trifling alleviation they afforded to the deep- 
est poverty. 

Gertrude felt sure that this was a Catholic church, 
and determined, come what might, that she would 
visit it next day. ,She left the house at an earlier 
hour than usual, and, with beating heart, hastened 
rapidly down the crowded streets. The door in 
the front of the church was open, to her great joy, 
and as she peeped timidly in, a respectably-dressed 
man, who she at first thought was a priest, and who 
was busy sweeping the lower part of the church, 
accosted her politely, saying the last Mass was over 
28* 


658 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


an hour ago, as the father who usually said it, at a 
later hour, was obliged to go to the country on 
business. Gertrude did not reply, and was hurry- 
ing away, alarmed at her own boldness in venturing 
so much ; but the good brother had his own suspi- 
cions, and determined she should not escape so 
easily. 

With the ready tact and courtesy of his country, 
he followed her as she was passing through the 
entrance yard, and ‘‘ begged she would return and 
see the church, as it was very beautiful, and no 
stranger ought to go by without looking at it.’’ 

In spite of twenty years’ residence in England 
and France, his accent was unmistakably Irish, and 
as Gertrude looked in his kind, bright face, which 
beamed with benevolent and holy hope, she almost 
felt as if she had secured a friend. 

After some conversation, she ventured to tell 
him that she was a Sister of Mercy ; and to his 
doubtful enquiry as to whether she was a Catholic, 
she replied with a smile : Well, good brother, I 
suppose you would not allow me to claim that 
holy name ; but, be assured, I believe in the Holy 
Catholic Church as firmly as yourself.” 

The lay-brother shook his head. ‘‘ People might 
call themselves what they liked,” he said, gently, 
but firmly ; but how could there be two sorts of 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 659 

Catholics? Sure, if there were, there would be 
no church at all !” 

It was in vain Gertrude assured him that she 
believed all he believed. 

“ Then, if you do, ma’am,’' he replied, your 
ministers do not ; for where would you find a 
Protestant Church with that in it ?” and he pointed 
to the Tabernacle as he spoke. And where,” he 
continued, pointing to the confessionals round the 
church — '' and where would you see crowds kneel- 
ing round those night after night ?” 

But I go to confession myself,” said Gertrude, 
smiling at his earnestness, and yet deeply struck 
by it ; and I believe that our Lord has left power 
to His priests to absolve us from our sins ; for He 
has said so Himself. And as for the Sacrament,” 
she continued, I also believe in that, and so do 
many Protestants ; only they do not take exactly 
the same view as you do of the Real Presence.” 

God send you where you’ll get the real abso- 
lution, and not have the shame of telling your sins 
to those that can do no more to loose you from 
them than I can. Ah, ma’am, I see you’re in real 
earnest with Almighty God ; and, may be. His 
mercy is nearer to you than you think. There is 
one of our own priests here who was one of your 
sort before, and I have often heard him telling and 


66o 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


preaching about it, and saying, wnat an awful 
thing it was for those who have no power and no 
right to pretend they can take the keys of the 
kingdom of Heaven, that Christ has given only to 
the priests of the true church ; and how can they 
call themselves a part of the church, when they 
separated themselves from it long ago? And, as 
for the Blessed Sacrament, sure, there can’t be 
two ways of believing in it. If Christ Jesus is 
there, can we worship Him too much ? and if he 
is not there, sure, it would be plain idolatry to 
make the bread and wine anything spiritual. But 
I’m keeping you standing, ma’am, too long ; and 
it’s not well to be talking here even of holy things ; 
you look tired and weary, too ; and if you would 
come into the little parlor in the monastery, and 
sit down a few minutes, one of the fathers would 
come to you ; and, oh ! for the love of God, who 
sent you here this day, don’t go without seeing a 
priest !” 

The man’s earnestness, perhaps his prayers, 
gained the point. After some moments’ hesita- 
tion, Gertrude found herself in a small, plainly 
furnished parlor, and in less time than she could 
have supposed possible, the lay-brother returned 
with a tall, elderly, but almost timid-looking eccle- 
siastic, whom he introduced as Father Eustace. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


66l 


After placing a chair courteously for the priest, he 
withdrew, but first turning to Gertrude, he handed 
her a small crucifix, which he said his superior had 
given him permission to give to her if she would 
condescend to accept it. The tears were in Ger- 
trude’s eyes as she stretched out her hand to the 
good brother, and earnestly begging his prayers, 
thanked him for his kindness. 




CHAPTER XLV. 

“ Transubstantiation (or the change of bread and wine) in the 
supper of the Lord cannot be proved in holy writ.” — Art. xxviii. 

“ The sacrifices of Masses were . . . blasphemous fables and dan- 
gerous deceits.” — Art. xxxi. 

Are we assured that Christ changed bread and wine into His 
Body and Blood ? Yes ; by the very words which Christ Himself 
said when He instituted the blessed Eucharist, ‘ This is my body ; 
this is my blood.' ” Matt. xxvi. — Catholic Catechism. 

Query. — On what possible grounds can certain members of the 
Protestant Church of England claim unity with the Church Catho- 
, lie on all but non-essential points of discipline ? If they believe 
in Transubstantiation, they believe what their church expressly de- 
nies ; therefore they should at once renounce all communion with 
her. If they do not believe in Transubstantiation, they deny a 
fundamental article of the Catholic faith, and are, consequently, 
simply protesters against her. 

ROTHER PATRICK is very fervent/’ 
observed the priest, as he left the 
room ; his remarks sometimes are 
original, but they are generally very much to the 
point. I trust he has not wearied you this morn- 
ing ; yet I am afraid his zeal sometimes oversteps 
his discretion.” 

Gertrude replied warmly ; for, indeed, she had 

(662) 




HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


663 


felt most thankful for the same zeal. Perhaps, 
had it not been exercised in her behalf, she never 
would have ventured on her present interview. 
An hour passed in earnest conversation ; and at 
last Gertrude rose to leave, fearing her long ab- 
sence would be noticed ; but not until she had 
promised the father to repeat her visit very soon. 

As she returned slowly and thoughtfully to her 
temporary home, it suddenly occurred to her that 
she ought to see some clergyman of her own per- 
suasion before she committed herself further, and 
ascertain as far as might be, what was the real 
belief of the Protestant establishment on the sub- 
ject of the Sacrament. The time had come when 
she dared delay her enquiries no longer — when 
doubt no more could be tolerated as an inevitable 
but necessary condition of our spiritual being. 
She knew nothing of Mr. Tiddell, the clergyman 
whose church she attended daily ; but her resolu- 
tion was formed, and next day she called at his 
house. Her approach had been noticed by a noisy 
group of girls, who seemed to vary in age from 
eight or ten to fifteen or eighteen, one of whom 
opened the door in answer to her timid ring, and, 
saying she would call her papa, who was in the 
school, then showed Gertrude into a dining-room, 
where she remained in anything but an enviable 


664 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


frame of mind until the reverend gentleman made 
his appearance. 

Mr. Tiddell received her kindly, but with evi- 
dent surprise. A few moments' conversation con- 
vinced her that he could not in the remotest de- 
rgree understand or enter into her feelings. He 
appeared annoyed that Miss Dobbs had never 
asked him to visit her establishment, and said very 
decidedly that the sisters had no sanction from him 
for their proceedings. He knew Dr. Humbletone 
a little, and agreed with him in some of his opin- 
ions ; but, though he believed he was considered a 
Puseyite himself, he thought both Dr. Pusey and 
her friend Dr. Humbletone went a little too far. 
How far Mr. Tiddell went himself was difficult to 
ascertain. He or his curate read prayers every 
day in the church, and, on the saint days recognized 
by the establishment, had the communion service 
and a sermon ; but he evidently objected to close 
questions about the said service, and told Gertrude 
he thought the great error of the Roman Catholic 
Church consisted in defining matters of faith too 
closely. Of course, he believed there was some- 
thing more than bread and wine in the communion 
he administered, some spiritual presence of our 
Divine Lord ; but still, the bread was bread, and 
the wine was wine,^and Gertrude could extract no 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


665 


opinion from him beyond this vague statement ; 
probably for the sufficient reason that he had no 
definite opinion to give. It was in vain that she 
asked some explanation of this spiritual presence. 
Was it anything more than the Omnipresence 
which pervades all space ? was it connected with 
the bread and wine in any way ? and if it was, why 
should not the bread and wine be reverenced more 
than common food ? Had Christ a spiritual exis- 
tence separate from that sacred Humanity en- 
throned at the right hand of God, and was it of 
this spiritual existence the faithful partook ? The 
rubric after the communion service expressly as- 
serts that “ no adoration is intended, or ought to 
be done to any corporal presence of Christ’s nat- 
ural Flesh and Blood.” 

Anxious to evade this close questioning, and 
really perplexed how to reply, Mr. Tiddell abruptly 
changed the subject, and after expatiating at some 
length on the idolatry and other horrors of Popery, 
on the advantages of belonging to a religious 
body which allowed so much freedom of opinion, 
and on the great evil which would certainly be 
produced if the High Church clergymen went too 
far, he asked Gertrude if she would visit a poor 
woman that afternoon, who was dying, and who 
had never received communion ; adding that he 


666 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


intended to administer the sacrament to her the 
next da}^, and would be glad if she could be pres- 
ent, as the rubric required there should be some 
one besides the minister and the sick person, or he 
could not say the service. Gertrude assented, but 
requested he would get some one to call at Henry 
Street as soon as possible, and leave the woman’s 
name and address, with a request that she should 
be visited immediately ; otherwise,” she added, ‘' I 
could not attend her, as the sister who is in charge 
of the house, would enquire the cause of my ab- 
sence, and I should be very sorry that my visit to 
you should be known.” 

Mr. Tiddell hesitated a moment. He said he did 
not wish to have anything to do with the sisters ; 
it might place him in an unpleasant position. But 
Gertrude explained that no enquiry would be made 
as to who had requested the visit, and he could 
desire his messenger not to mention his name. 

As she rose to leave, he begged she would be 
with the invalid about three o’clock the next day, 
^^as,” he added, we dine at two, and I generally 
make my visits in the afternoon.” 

' After a momentary hesitation, Gertrude ac- 
quiesced, but earnestly requested that her visit 
might not be mentioned to any one, as she was 
most anxious on this subject. 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


667 


‘‘But my daughters/' observed Mr. Tiddell, as 
he politely opened the door. I am sure they have 
remarked your visit, and what can I say to them ?”* 

Gertrude turned away abruptly. She could not 
help contrasting her visit to the monastery and her 
visit to the parsonage. 

“ His daughters, indeed !" she exclaimed, as she 
remembered the loud and rude burst of ill-sup- 
pressed laughter which she had heard as she passed 
through the hall, and the curious stare of the 
young lady who had admitted her. A glance at 
Mr. Tiddell's parlor at that moment would not 
have added much to her mental repose. The cler- 
gyman had no sooner closed the door on his visitor 
than he was surrounded by a clamorous group of 
questioners, all eager, naturally enough, to know 
what that Protestant sister wanted with their papa. 
It was not long before they obtained all the infor- 
mation in his possession, and also heard him ex- 
press a serious fear that she would soon become a 
Papist, a piece of information which was speedily 
conveyed to their mother, a meek little woman 
who, unfortunately for herself, had consented to be 
Mr. Tiddell’s wife, after he had already buried two 
predecessors, who left sundry pledges of their affec- 
tion rather too numerous for her domestic comfort. 

* A fact. • 


668 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


The poor woman whom Gertrude visited that 
afternoon was dying, and it was with the greatest 
difficulty she could be persuaded to receive com- 
munion. Surely, she said, it could not make so 
much difference whether she did or not ; was not 
Almighty God every where, and could she not 
feed on Him in her heart, by faith,” as the 
communion service says, just as well, without eat- 
ing the bread and wine ? At last she yielded to 
Gertrude’s earnest entreaties, who arrived a little 
before the appointed time, and had the bread ready 
on a small table covered with a clean white cloth, 
which was kept at Henry Street for such occasions. 

Mr. Tiddell brought the wine ; but just as he 
was about to hand the cup to Gertrude, an awk- 
ward movement overset its contents. In a mo- 
ment he had poured out some more from the small 
flask in which his clerk had brought it, and handed 
the vessel to Gertrude, and then to the invalid, 
without further ceremony. It was not the first 
time that she had received bread and wine without 
any attempt at consecration. Her father, like 
many other Low Church clergymen, was by no 
means particular on such occasions, and if the 
bread and wine over which he had read the usual 
prayer was consumed, he speedly supplied more 
from a side table. Gertrude could understand it 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


669 

in her father ; he had always preached and pro- 
tested against believing the sacrament to be any- 
thing more than a mere edifying ceremony. But 
Mr. Tiddell, what did he believe.^ Until now she 
had thought he held the same views as herself ; 
certainly, he professed and preached some kind of 
belief in the presence of Christ in or with the sac- 
rament he had just administered. 

As he rose to leave, he took up the cloth, which 
Gertrude had not yet removed from the little table, 
and with a polite apology expressed a fear that he 
had injured it, though he hoped the stain would 
do no harm if placed in water at once. 

When Gertrude returned to Henry Street, the 
servant was out, and, contrary to her usual custom. 
Sister Mildred opened the door. The expression 
of the younger sister’s face instantly struck her ; 
but she was not left long in suspense as to the 
cause. After a brief account of what had occur- 
red, Gertrude handed her the cloth stained with 
wine, and exclaiming, Sister Mildred, we either 
believe too much or too little !” she turned froa 
her abruptly, and hurried up to her little room. i 

Sister Mildred was not a little perplexed how to 
act. She had been strictly forbidden to hold any 
conversation with her companion; but it was evi- 
dent there was something serious in all this ; some- 


6/0 HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 

thing that required advice and caution. Still, 
what could she say or do ? Miss Dobbs did not 
like to be troubled about trifles ; and after all, what 
was this but a trifle? an accident which might 
occur any day. And yet, Sister Mildred felt her- 
self that it was an accident which ought not to 
occur, and which should not be treated lightly 
when it did happen. In spite of the explicit de- 
claration of the rubric, that the wine remains wine, 
and that it never is or can be anything else. Sister 
Mildred washed the cloth very carefully, we might 
almost say reverently, with her own hands, and 
emptied the discolored water in a clean place ; and 
yet, sister Mildred would have been extremely 
puzzled if any one had asked her why she took all 
these precautions. Surely, if the wine was only 
wine, there was an end of the matter, and any care 
of it would be unnecessary, if not superstitious ; if 
it was more than wine, what was it? Was the 
Blood of the Immaculate Lamb there? Alas! 
Sister Mildred would not dare to say it was. Her 
church had plainly pronounced on that subject, 
and declared such a belief an idolatry, to be ab- 
horred of all Christian people. But the wine was 
consecrated. Yes, it was consecrated ; and we re- 
spect sister Mildred’s reverence for what she con- 
sidered holy ; though she knew not as yet that it 


irORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


671 


needed something more than reading the ordination 
service over a man to give him authority to exer- 
cise the office of priest, and enable him truly to 
consecrate that bread, which ceases to be bread, 
and that wine, which ceases to be wine, about 
which there can be no mistake, no doubtfulness, no 
question of how much or how little it may be rev- 
erenced, no vague conjectures as to what it has 
become, or whether the Body and Blood of Christ 
is really or figuratively present. 

Early the next day Gertrude set out for her 
usual visits to the poor, but as soon as she had left 
the house she turned in the direction of a neighbor- 
ing post-office, where she deposited a letter for 
Katie Rossmore, and then proceeded rapidly to the 
monastery she had visited a few days before. 
Father Eustace was engaged in the confessional, 
but the lay brother conducted her immediately 
and quietly to a parlor in the monastery, and then, 
satisfied that his work was done, as she had con- 
sented to see a priest, he was retiring without fur- 
ther observation, when Gertrude begged he would 
remain a few moments, though she could not per- 
suade him to sit down. The number of confessionals 
in the church had attracted her attention, and she 
was anxious to ask brother Patrick a question, which 
she felt rather shy of proposing to Father Eustace. 


6/2 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


How often do we go to confession ? replied 
the lay brother, in answer to her question, and 
musing for a moment as if doubtful whether he 
quite understood the import of what was said. I 
go once a week, ma’am, and if I have the misfor- 
tune to offend my good God, I go at once that very 
day if I can, and blessed be God for the opportunities 
I have here, of which many a better Christian is 
deprived by living at a distance from priest or 
chapel.” 

Gertrude looked surprised. This frequent con- 
fession was very different from the practice of her 
own party. When at Whetholm Green, the sisters 
usually saw Doctor Humbletone for this purpose 
about once in two months ; but at Miss Dobbs’, the 
intervals between confession were much longer, as 
that lady had an idea that what she would have 
considered frequent confession was unnecessar}^ and 
injurious. When Catholic practices are attempted 
out of the Catholic Church, they become like delicate 
plants, transplanted to an uncongenial soil, and in 
process of time, if not at once, so degenerate as 
scarcely to bear a resemblance to what they had 
been. 

To a Catholic, confession is a sacrament, through 
which he obtains not only remission of sins, but 
also an increase of sanctifying grace. It is not 


BORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 673 

merely a remedy ; it is a prevention to future evil. 
Consequently, while a practical Catholic always 
approaches that sacrament as speedily as possible 
when he needs absolution from any sin which he has 
been so unhappy as to commit, he also seeks grace 
at the tribunal of penance, and dares not frequent- 
ly approach the Holy Communion, even should he 
hope his conscience was free from stain, without 
purifying himself further by asking the absolution 
of one who has authority from God and the Church 
to apply the merits of the precious blood of Christ 
to his soul. 

How different the practice of the few Protestants 
who go to confession ! Few, if any, have a clear, 
definite idea of what the sacrament really is. They 
want direction, they want advice, in the man}^ per- 
plexities of duty, often increased tenfold by the 
difference between their religious opinions and 
those of their family or immediate friends ; they 
want sympathy in their spiritual trials, and as they 
have little or no exterior help in their own church, 
they are fain to satisfy their craving for spiritual 
consolation by intercourse with those whom they 
have chosen as their directors. The consequence 
of this is that, while in any doubt as to a line of con- 
duct, they apply at once for direction, and often 
imagine they cannot act in the merest trifle without 

29 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


674 

the sanction of their guide. They will frequently 
and regularly approach what they call the sacra- 
ment of communion, without a thought of purifying 
their conscience by obtaining the special absolution 
which, in theory, they always appear to consider a 
necessary condition for the remission of sin. 

The inconsistency of this was one of the first 
things which aroused Gertrude to a consciousness 
that the practice of even those who appeared most 
Catholic in the Established Church was very far 
from the perfection of all that their theory involved. 
Miss Dobbs insisted on her sisters dining at ten 
and going to church immediately after, to receive 
what they were taught to consider a sacrament, 
which ought, at least, to be approached with some 
reverent preparation ; which she knew, if they were 
Catholics, they would not presume to receive after 
they had broken their fast, even by a mouthful of 
cold water. Nor was her view of spiritual prepara- 
tion more advanced. They recited a few prayers 
adapted from Catholic books, but they were pre- 
vented from going to confession more than two or 
three times in the year, and, consequently, what- 
ever bui^den of sin might be on their consciences 
remained there, and, without hesitation or thought, 
they received their communion. 

Confession, in their opinion, was something super- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR K. 675 

added to their other pious duties — a sort of devo- 
tional practice, which might be used or omitted, 
according to convenience or discretion. How 
plainly all this proved that the Church of England 
did not consider it necessary for salvation ! and 
that those who professed most loudly their belief 
in the power of the priesthood to remit sin, either 
did not understand their own belief or were willing 
to sacrifice to expediency what their consciences 
told them was an imperative duty. 




CHAPTER XLVI. 

Deep on the convent roof the snows 
Are sparkling to the moon : 

My breath to heaven like vapor goes : 

May my soul follow soon ! 

The shadows of the convent towers 
Slant down the snowy sward, 

Still creeping with the creeping hours 
That lead me to my Lord.” — Tennyson. 



W O years had passed since we left Made- 
leine in her convent home. She has re- 
covered from her illness, and is on the 
very eve of pronouncing those solemn vows which 
will bind her forever to the life she has deliberately 
chosen. How different that quiet act will seem to 
different people ! Madame Le Blanche is still living 
in France, and persevering in the reformation of 
her life, which she so solemnly resolved to under- 
take when she supposed herself dying. She is 
thankful, with a holy Christian thankfulness, that 
Madeleine will so soon be solemnly consecrated to 
the service of Him who she she now believes can- 
(676) 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 677 

not be loved or served too well. And what of the 
Abbe ? Ah ! it is something more than joy which 
gleams on that saintly face, and wells up in burn- 
ing, unutterable thanksgiving from that saintly 
heart. Madeleine is going to do what he has 
done years ago. But he has the advantage of ex- 
perience. She hopes and believes — rather, we 
should say, she never doubts for an instant that the 
life she has chosen is the happiest as well as the 
holiest that mortal can choose ; but it is neither 
hope nor trust that glows in the soul of the aged 
priest. He knows, from the blessed experience of 
years, that the words of the royal Psalmist are true, 
that better is one day in His courts than thousands. 
And were he again a youth, with all the w^orld 
could give of pleasure or of wealth at his command, 
not one moment would he hesitate to fling it from 
him, and exclaim as Madeleine will do on the da}^ 
of her holy profession, I have chovsen to be an 
abject.'’ 

The gentle Mere Angelique has seen some ex- 
terior changes in her convent since we last saw her 
going through her daily routine of meek love and 
saintly care. About a year after their arrival in 
London, a Protestant gentleman called one day at 
the convent. He had long been convinced, intel- 
lectually, that the Catholic faith was the only true 


678 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


faith, but his heart was not so entirely won. A few 
words which Mfere Angelique unconsciously uttered 
touched him deeply. He returned home thought- 
ful and somewhat sad of heart. 

It was a happy sadness. The Abbess did not 
know how much impression she had made, but she 
begged the sisters to pray for the generous young 
Englishman, and they did pray for him very earn- 
estly. 

Before a fortnight had elapsed, the gentleman 
returned. He was now a Catholic, and as he knelt 
in the poor little chapel, in which the nuns, with all 
their love, could make but little improvement, the 
thought struck him that he would make an offering 
to his God of some of his wealth, and found a 
church and monastery for these holy religious. 

The following day he returned, and informed 
Mere Angelique of his intention. In a year at fur- 
thest, he hoped that he could have a convent suffi- 
ciently forward to be habitable, and a temporary 
chapel ready for their use. Part of his own prop- 
erty was in the neighborhood of London, and here 
he determined, if the nuns had no objection, should 
be their future home. 

Ah, my sisters !” exclaimed the Mere Angelique, 
when they were settled in their new abode — Ah, 
my sisters, how shall we thank our dearest Lord for 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


679 

all His love. We thought in leaving our beautiful 
France that we should never again see the green 
fields and bright flowers and clear sk}' ; and see 
what God has given us now even of temporal en- 
joyment. We thought while in our poor house in 
London that we would never again possess a place 
where, we could see our blessed Jesus enshrined 
as we enshrined Him in the temples of our own 
dear land ; and see what He has given us here. Oh, 
my sisters! let us praise Him, let us love Him, let 
us serve Him with our whole hearts and souls, with 
every faculty of body and mind ; and let us often 
think, if so much is given us here, what will be the 
joys, the glories of our celestial homes. A little 
while and we shall see the golden shores of the sun- 
lit land; a little while and we shall behold our 
dearest Lord, not hidden and veiled as He is now ; 
not neglected and despised, but flashing with radi- 
ance no mortal sight could bear, and beloved with 
an adoration no mortal heart can conceive.” 

The Mere Angelique was gazing up into the 
deeply blue vault of heaven as she spoke, and for 
a few moments she was so absorbed in thought as 
to be scarcely conscious of what passed around. 

The bell at this moment tolled for the evening 
meditation and office, ^and as the sisters made way 
that she might precede them to the choir, an acciden- 


68o 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


tal glance at Madeleine's face made her feel a strange 
unaccountable anxiety. Her retreat previous to 
profession was to commence the next day. While 
Mere Angelique was arranging it with her and ap- 
pointing her hours for meditation and the books she 
was to use^ the expression she had observed the 
previous evening again struck her. As Madeline 
was always confiding and loving, it was never diffi- 
cult to ascertain what was passing in her mind, and 
indeed so far were the sisters from wishing to con- 
ceal any thought from their beloved mother, that 
their only anxiety was lest they should not be able 
to explain themselves as fully as they wished. 

The M^re Angelique soon knew or rather sus- 
pected more than Madeleine knew herself Since 
her illness she had been even more delicate than 
before, and it was only by the greatest care and the 
tender watchfulness of her superior, that her health 
had been preserved sufficiently to enable her to 
comply with a rigorous rule. It had so often oc- 
curred that persons who were delicate before pro- 
fession became quite strong after, or, we should 
rather say, obtained a supernatural grace, which 
enabled them to bear up against suffering and 
weakness, and to keep their holy rule with as 
much fervor and regularity as many who were 
more robust, that even Mere Angelique hoped that 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 68 1 

this would be the case with Madeleine, and trusted 
that she might be spared for many years to her 
sisters. 

But unconsciously to herself Madeleine was 
pining for another home. She was not weary of 
earth. Life had never seemed so bright and happy 
as since she had lived in the shadow of the sanctu- 
ary in a convent home ; but heaven had never 
seemed so beautiful until she began to live on earth, 
in some measure, even as the blessed do in their 
kingdom of eternal joy. As her soul knew more 
of God, her heart yearned yet more and more for 
His blessed presence ; as her heart was purified day 
by day not only from grosser sins, but from even 
the imperfection of preferring one duty to another, 
of desiring one employment more than another, of 
fulfilling an obedience that was agreeable to her 
natural inclination more zealously than one that 
was in any way repugnant to it — as she deepened 
in love, so she deepened in desire, and of late the 
burning cry was ever on her lips, and yet more in 
her heart — 

Sitivit in te aniina mea^ ^uam multiplicater tibi caro 
mea. In terra deserta^ et invia^ et inasquosa, sic in 
saricto apparui tibi ut viderent virtutem tua^n, et glori- 
am tuam. 

Truly from break of day till evening’s close, and 
29^ 


682 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


often as.she lay sleepless in the still watches of the 
night, her cry was for home — for Fatherland. She 
was ver}^ beautiful when she entered the convent, 
but her beauty of late had become more radiant 
than ever. The sisters thought her delicate health 
gave her that clear, transparent complexion, and 
added that depth to the lustre of her eye ; and yet 
there were some who had their misgivings, and 
doubted if the gates of the celestial city were not 
already opening for her entrance, and its floods of 
unearthly brightness reflecting themselves upon her 
countenance. 

And so, dearest mother, you will not give me 
leave to pray that I may die.'' 

Mere Angelique smiled. Wait until you learn 
to be a good religious first, my child, and then, per- 
haps, I might give you leave some ten years hence. 
Would you not like to live and work for your 
Heavenly Spouse ?" 

I would, dear mother ; but,^ oh, how I long to 
see Him 1" 

The same expression was again on Madeleine's 
face. Mere Angelique hesitated. She saw it was 
not a common feeling that actuated her spiritual 
child. It was not the romantic idea of a young 
untried mind. It was not an impatient desire to 
escape suffering ; it was not an unwillingness 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


683 


to work, or a cowardly shrinking from that 
weary battle with self and sin which those who 
would be saints must daily wage. She could 
scarcely doubt but it was a pure and holy pining for 
His presence who had been the sun of that young 
girhs soul from the earliest dawn of reason. 

‘‘ Pray that God may give you a longer or short- 
er life as will be most for His glory. And oh, my 
sister ! as you love Him, ask that there may be no 
self or self-seeking in this desire of yours. I can- 
not forbid you to think of it, though I advise you not 
to pray as you have wished to do on your profes- 
sion day, for an early death. God is our Father, 
and believe me. He will do what is best for His 
children, and it is safer to ask Him to do His will, 
than to ask even what may seem to us holiest and 
best.’' 

So rapidly had the eight days of Madeleine’s 
retreat passed over, that when the eve of her pro- 
fession arrived, she could scarcely believe the day 
was so near for which she had so earnestly longed. 
She was not left alone or uncared for in her soli- 
tude. Meditation was no new and untried occu- 
pation, and to think of God and pray to Him for 
some hours longer than usual during the day, was 
a happiness which many of her sisters almost en- 
vied, and though she spoke to no one but the 


684 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


mother abbess and her confessor, her remaining 
time was not lonely and unoccupied. When not 
actually engaged in prayer, or at the usual devo- 
tions of the community, she worked, or read some 
pious book, or walked in the grounds attached to 
the convent ; and then, there was always one half 
hour or more spent with her beloved superior, dur- 
ing which they conversed of holy things, of the 
time when their earthly life would be ended and 
eternity would be one long retreat from the cares 
and anxieties and sorrows of time, or of Made- 
leine’s own spiritual necessities, of what had been 
wrong in the past, and how she hoped for the fu- 
ture to become more worthy of the high and holy 
vocation she had received. 

The Abbe Le Blanche arrived on the eve of the 
profession, but Madeleine, or rather we should say 
sister Madeleine, for she had retained her own 
sweet name in religion, would not see him until 
the next day. Even what was best and holiest 
of earthly affection must be sacrificed. She was 
about to be united to a Bridegroom who was jeal- 
ous of the love of His spouses, and she would not 
disturb her union with Him by any human inter- 
course. 

Miss Stapleton had already been a year in the 
convent, and was looking forward to the profes- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


685 


sion with no little interest. She had not as yet 
had an opportunity of witnessing this ceremony, 
nor had she even seen the white veil taken until 
she had herself the happiness to be clothed in the 
holy habit of religion. Another convert was ex- 
pected to be present on the occasion, whom Mere 
Angelique hoped, ere long, to receive amongst the 
number of her children. That convert was Ger- 
trude Helmore. It was in vain that Dr. Humble- 
tone threatened and consigned her by letter (for 
she had the prudence to avoid an interview) to 
eternal condemnation. Every thing was said that 
could be said to shake her firm resolve. Even the 
delicacy of her conscience, which the Doctor well 
understood, was not spared ; and when his argu- 
ments in favor of the church of her baptism failed 
to influence her determination, he tried to prevent 
its immediate accomplishment by declaring that 
even if the Church of Rome were the true church, 
she could not be saved in it, as pride and love of 
notice had been the motives which urged her to 
this step. For several days Gertrude trembled 
and wavered, not in her faith, but in her resolve to 
act immediately on her conviction. It was not 
until she had made Father Eustace acquainted 
with Dr. Humbletone’s denunciations and shown 
him his letters that she was calmed and satisfied. 


686 


HORNE-HURSr RECTORY, 


And who/' exclaimed Father Eustace, almost 
indignantly, who is this Dr. Humbletone that 
talks of pride, and when he can no longer convince 
by his arguments, seeks to terrify a lamb of Christ 
from entering the one true fold ? Let him not 
speak of pride while he exalts himself as the judg,3 
of the living and the dead, while he presumes to 
amend the works of saints, and to condemn the 
practices and so much of the doctrine of the church 
of the living God as does not meet with his appro- 
bation. Who has appointed him to revise and al- 
ter ? Who has appointed him to rebuke and cor- 
rect? To what authority does he submit? and to 
whom does he yield obedience, and the deference 
of true humility ? Not to his own church, for he 
opposes and is constantly opposed by every eccle- 
siastical authority in it. Not to the law of the 
land, for it has established the very church which 
he is so anxious to remodel. Not to the see of 
Peter, for he neither will submit himself to those 
who hold the keys of the kingdom of Heaven, nor 
suffer others to do so. No, my child, if there be 
pride in the case, it shows itself in him who resists 
all authority except his own ; who yields to no 
opinion save that which he forms himself. But 
pride there cannot be in submission to the true 
church. And even if it were your besetting sin, 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


687 


and you had committed more sins of pride than 
any mortal upon earth, your safety would be, not 
in remaining with a party whose religious belief is 
framed on pride itself, on the pride which believes 
itself right and all others wrong, but in entering 
the one true church, where you can receive absolu- 
tion from your past sin, however great it may have 
been, and where you will receive sacramental grace 
and strength which will enable you to conquer 
your faults whatever they may be.” 


CHAPTER XLVII. 


“ Not as a child shall we again behold her ; 

For when with raptures wild 
In our embrace we do again enfold her, 

She will not be a child ; 

But a fair maiden, in her Father’s mansion, 
Clothed with celestial grace.” — Longfellow. 


r was night — a summer night, such as can 
be enjoyed only in the glorious southern 
climes. It seemed as if the sun had not 
long set, and vivid were the tints upon the western 
hills ; and yet it was near sunrise, and the Bay of 



688 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR F. 


Naples was already glowing with the first faint 
radiance of its coming glory. 

Katie had just fallen into a light and peaceful slum- 
ber. Her last thoughts had been of the land of 
eternal sunshine, and in her dreams she still strove 
to picture to herself the beauty that was unseen. 

A gentle tap at her door aroused her, and Lady 
Errington’s voice recalled her to the world of sense. 

I am so sorry to disturb you, Katie ; but I fear 
Amy is very ill, and she will not rest until you 
come to her.’' 

In a moment Katie was aroused, and hastened to 
her little favorite. Amy had been ill ever since the 
eventful day that Lady Errington had met Ger- 
trude on Windsor Common. Damp, heavy dews 
had fallen ere they reached home, and the child 
shivered again and again. It seemed impossible to 
give her warmth. A severe rheumatic fever ensued, 
and then indeed the saintly patience of the little 
one was tried to its utmost. How Katie’s heart 
yearned over her, as she heard the suppressed 
moan, the earnest entreaty for pardon of the least 
word of impatience that escaped her! It was her 
greatest, almost her only pleasure, when it was 
possible, to lie in Katie’s arms, and hear stories 
about the little Jesus and His Mother Mary. Ah ! 
He did not cry when the great nails were put into 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY, 


689 


His blessed hands ; He did not complain when the 
thorns were driven down into His head. And Amy 
would point to her poor little thin hands, now al- 
most convulsed with the pain of this most painful 
disease, and to her burning, weary head. The 
thought of the little Jesus made her strong to 
suffer. 

As soon as she had recovered sufficiently to bear 
a journey, Lady Errington decided on taking her 
abroad. She was anxious herself that Katie should 
accompany her, and Amy’s earnest entreaties de- 
cided the question, and removed any hesitation 
Miss Rossmore had. At first the child seemed a 
little better, but it was not long before it became 
evident to all that a few weeks at most must see 
the termination of her earthly life. Mr. Errington 
had joined the family party at Paris. He had been 
detained by a dangerous and painful accident in 
the south of France, and had only arrived so far en 
route for Chelmsford, where he was most anxious 
to return, the moment he heard of his child’s 
serious illness. 

There was another reason, too, why he was de- 
sirous to expedite his homeward movements. Lady 
Errington had mentioned in one of her letters that 
she did not think Miss Rossmore was likely to 
choose a conventual life, (which, from some unac- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


690 

countable reason, they had all thought probable,) 
and that she hoped to persuade her to remain some 
time longer at Chelmsford Park. 

Katie entered the room of the dying child. Mr. 
Errington was there, kneeling in such sorrow as a 
fond parent must feel, in such resignation as Ca- 
tholics may always experience if they are faithful 
to the grace of God. 

There was an expression of intense pain on Amy’s 
face. It was a keen trial for those who loved her 
so dearly, and there was more than bodily suffer- 
ing now. Poor little lamb ! she was asking to re- 
ceive her Lord, her dearest Jesus, once, only once, 
before she died, and it was hard to make her under- 
stand why she was refused. 

She looked at Katie as she came in, and stretched 
out her wasted hands as if to plead with her to ob- 
tain what others must refuse. Katie whispered 
vSoftly to Lady Errington. She knew Amy well, 
perhaps even better than those who were nearer, 
but scarcely dearer, to the gentle child. There 
were tears in her eyes as she put her arms round 
her favorite, and heard her murmured entreaty 
that she, at least, would ask the priest to bring the 
little Jesus to her. 

There was a picture near Amy’s bed. It was 
Mary carrying the Infant Jesus in her arms. How 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


691 

tenderly the Mother looked on her -Child! how 
fearful she seemed lest even the very winds of heaven 
should touch her treasure ! Katie brought it over 
to Amy. She told her, in low and gentle accents, 
how Mary had loved Jesus, how carefully she 
watched Him ; and, though she loved Amy so 
dearly, yet, perhaps, she would have thought her 
too young to carry the Infant Jesus in her arms, 
even for a few moments. 

Amy understood it all. Y^, it was the same, 
the very same Jesus, she asked so anxiously to re- 
ceive into her heart. She was satisfied. A weary 
look came over the young face ; earth had nothing 
in it now that she cared to live for. Papa was very 
dear, and so was grandmamma, but she wanted 
some One dearer still. 

Will I be too young to have the little Jesus in 
heaven?” she whispered softly to Katie, as she 
closed her eyes and lay back, exhausted, on the 
pillow. Her father’s tears, which he could not 
repress, recalled her to earth again. ‘‘ Poor papa !” 
she murmured, thoughtfully. Katie, you must 
comfort poor papa, and tell him about the little 
Jesus.” 

Mr. Errington looked up, and took her little hand 
in his. She looked at Katie, took her hand, and 
gently drew it towards her father’s. 


692 


■HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


Katie will comfort papa/’ she said ; and, looking 
first at one and then at the other, she seemed 
satisfied that her only earthly care was at an end. 

In a few moments, the medical man, who had 
attended her since their arrival at Naples, came 
into the room. Amy smiled faintly as he approached 
her. Though she did not understand a word of 
Italian, nor the good doctor a word of English, 
they had communicated with each other in a fashion 
of their own — a fashion easily understood by loving, 
simple hearts. She pointed to the sky, now radiant 
with the light and freshness of a summer morning. 

Little Jesus, come for Amy ! Mary — ” 

Little Jesus had come. There was a smile of in- 
effable joy on the young face, but the pulse had 
stopped and the heart had beaten its last earthly 
throb. 




CHAPTER XLVIII. 


Break up the heavens, O Lord ! and far, 
Thro’ all yon starlight keen, 

Draw me. Thy bride, a glittering star, 

In raiment white and clean. 

He lifts me to the golden doors ; 

The flashes come and go ; 

All heaven bursts her starry floors, 

And strews her lights below, 

And deepens on and up ! The gates 
Roll back, and, far within. 

For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits, 

To make me pure from sin ! ” — Tennyson. 



I HE anniversary of Madeleine's profession 
I was fast approaching. On that day Ger- 
trude Helmore was to receive the re- 
ligious habit. Mfere Angelique had hesitated a 
little about receiving her so soon after her recep- 
tion into the Church, but Gertrude had pleaded 
her cause so well that the gentle Abbess’ heart was 
touched, and she yielded. It would have been 
difficult, indeed, for her to refuse anything that was 
earnestly asked, particularly when the petitioner 
appeared in any trouble of .mind or body. 

(693) 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR V. 


694 

Mr. and Mrs. Errington had promised to be 
present at the ceremony. A few months after 
Amy’s death, Katie was reminded of the request 
of her little favorite — that she would comfort 
papa,” and she did not refuse the comfort he 
asked. They were married in Paris, and had but 
just returned to Chelmsford Park when the day 
was fixed for Gertrude’s reception. It was the 
fifteenth of August and the heat seemed oppressive, 
even after the warm climate to which they had 
lately been accustomed. The ceremony was at- 
tended by an immense concourse of people. Such 
occurrences were rare in that neighborhood, and it 
was hoped that Madeleine’s magnificent voice 
would be heard to the best advantage on the joyful 
occasion. This expectation was not disappointed. 
Even Mere Angelique, who was accustomed to con- 
trol her emotion, could scarcely contain her tears 
when the offertory piece commenced, and Made- 
leine, accompanied by Miss Stapleton, an organist 
of no common ability, poured forth strains that 
seemed to exceed in sweetness all she had ever 
uttered. 

When Gertrude left the choir to put off the 
secular attire which she had unwillingly worn dur- 
ing the interval between her departure from Miss 
Dobbs’ establishment and her entrance as a postu- 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


695 

lant at St. Clare's Abbey, the organ again pealed 
forth its sweet harmony, and Madeleine's voice 
once more thrilled the listeners with exceeding- 
gladness. There were Protestants present on that 
occasion, who knew but little of Mary, and less of 
their blessed angel guardians ; who thought that it 
was a disrespect to the Son to love the Mother, and 
who pitied the superstition of poor, deluded Papists, 
who believed that when the Eternal God chose a 
human parent. He by His own precious blood re- 
deemed her from all stain of sin, and when she 
died, as every mortal must, assumed her pure and 
stainless shrine into the highest heavens. They 
heard the thrilling notes of the Gaudent Angeli, and 
their hearts were touched, they knew not why. 
Perhaps their angel guardians could have more 
than guessed the cause of such unusual emotion. 
Madeleine and Selina Stapleton had made a little 
private agreement that morning. One offered every 
note she would play, the other every sound she 
would utter, as an act of thanksgiving for the As- 
sumption of their Immaculate Mother, and to ob- 
tain through her intercession the grace of conver- 
sion for some of the many Protestants who were 
expected to be present. 

W e believe it is said by those learned in the science 
of acoustics, that the undulation of air caused by a 


696 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


sound when uttered never ceases. If it be so, how 
horrible to the lost, if their ears should incessant- 
ly ring beneath the shock of waves of flame, vibrat- 
ing the evil words they have said ! How glorious 
for the ransomed ones, if they in heaven should 
hear a continuation of the accents of prayer and 
praise they have uttered on earth ! and if those ac- 
cents have been offered individually to the Eternal 
Father, how much more sublime and glorious will 
be their harmony ! 

How well you look, Gertrude exclaimed 
Katie, as the friends embraced each other fondl}’^ 
in the reception room, while Mr. Errington, Mere 
Angelique, and one or two other religious were car- 
rying on a very animated conversation in Belgian 
in another part of the room. Mr. Errington had 
lived so much abroad, that he was thoroughly au fait 
at most continental languages, and it was a real 
pleasure to the nuns to meet a visitor who could 
converse in the mother tongue of many of the sisters. 

We must often see you here,'' exclaimed Mere 
Angelique, warmly, as he rose to say adieu ; and 
madame must come to see if we take care of her 
little friend. Poor child !" she added, looking 
compassionately at Gertrude ; what she has suf- 
fered for the faith !" 

I do not think she will suffer much now," re- 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


697 

plied Katie, smiling. Why, I can scarcely be- 
lieve it is Gertrude herself, she looks so well and 
so happy !” 

That day two years, when the same party assem- 
bled to hear her pronounce her solemn vows, the 
observation might have been made with even more 
truth. Gertrude did look like another being. 
The care-worn, anxious, doubtful countenance had 
disappeared ; there was no depression now. How 
could there be, when all was peace and joy ? The 
conversion of her own family was her only anxiety. 
Mary was married to a High Church clergyman, 
who positively forbade all communication between 
the sisters. Alice remained with her mother, and 
sometimes wrote to Gertrude; but Charlie had 
visited" the convent several times, and declared 
there must be something in that sort of life, after 
all,” as many ladies, who were neither old nor 
ugly, nor poor, nor unhappy, had of their own 
free-will chosen to be nuns ; and, even more, did 
not seem to regret the step they had taken. The 
results of his cogitations and sundry anxious scru- 
tinies of the religious who, at his special request, 
saw him in the parlor for a short time when he vis- 
ited his sister, was, that he became anxious to 
know their motive, and as he was naturally open- 
hearted and sincere, it was not difficult to make 
30 


698 HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 

him understand as much as more than satisfied his 
present state of mind. The immediate result was, 
that he declared Gerty ought to be allowed to fol- 
low her conscientious convictions in peace ; and if 
she chose to be a nun, he could not see what 
harm it would do any one. Certainly, he thought 
she did as much, and more, good to her fellow- 
creatures than her sister Mary, though, as a par- 
son’s lady, she did visit an odd cottage now and 
then, when it was not too wet or too cold, or when 
there was no fear of bringing infection to baby.” 

And as for happiness, he was ready to declare 
on oath any day, that he never saw such happy- 
looking faces anywhere as those he met in the 
convent parlor; and the remembrance of a visit 
there did him good for a month after. Very soon 
after Gertrude’s profession, he accepted an invita- 
tion from the Erringtons to spend a month at 
Chelmsford. A more intimate acquaintance with 
the daily life of good practical Catholics, and the 
society of one of the most accomplished and amia- 
ble ecclesiastics of the day, was not without its 
effect. Before Christmas, Charlie was received 
into the Catholic church. 

His conversion was a great shock to poor Mrs. 
Helmore. Before Easter Sunday she was laid in 
the same grave with her husband. The prejudices 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 699 

of early education appeared in her case insur- 
mountable. Again and again her favorite boy en- 
treated her to read some simple explanation of 
Catholic doctrines and practices, but in vain. She 
had a vague, indefinite fear that if she did she 
would in some mysterious way be entrapped into 
Popery. Again and again Charlie told her that, 
anxious as he was for her conversion, his present 
object was only to satisfy her as to his belief, to 
convince her, if possible, that it was not idolatrous 
or blasphemous ; but he spoke in vain. Mrs. Hel- 
more only sighed wearily, and hoped and prayed 
some day he would return to the truth. He did 
not know all now, she said, but by and by he would 
see Popery in its true colors. It was useless for 
him to declare that he had read, that he had stud- 
ied, that he had prayed ; and, granting that he had 
a common share of intellect, and the most ordinary 
powers of comprehension, he could not he led 
astray. Wearied with his efforts to convince one 
who was unconvincible, he at last desisted from 
the hopeless task, and Mrs. Helmore died in the 
firm conviction that he was believing a lie, though 
she had obstinately and repeatedly refused to avail 
herself of any means of knowing what his belief was. 

The prospect of a title for her daughter resigned 
Lady Rossmore to Katie’s marriage, and as a very 


700 


HORNE-HURST RECTORY. 


practical proof of her appreciation thereof, she 
made a considerable settlement on her, which, 
however, was not to be available until her lady- 
ship’s demise, in compliance with a somewhat per- 
emptory suggestion of her cara sposa, to whom the 
remainder was consigned. That gentleman still 
pursues his career of polite literature and eloquence, 
in the shape of sundry tracts, little books covered 
with blue, occasional sermons, newspaper articles, 
mild contribution to mild magazines, id genus omne., 
all redolent of his favorite, and, indeed, we might 
say, his only theme — the horrors of Popery ; the 
latter in the more evanescent form of platform de- 
nunciation of the Beast and the Scarlet Lady, two 
individuals (if we may be permitted the term) who 
have lived so long in his imagination, that they 
have assumed there extraordinary and very pecu- 
liar features and proportions. 

But let us turn to a holier theme. Madeleine has 
gone Home. Her pure and beautiful life has ended ; 
or, should we not rather say, it has begun. Ah, 
Madeleine! happy Madeleine! Would that you 
could impart to us the secret of your love, and tell 
us how you made the King desire your beauty ! 

It- was Christmas time, and the snow was thick 
upon the ground. She had not been so well since 
the Feast of the Assumption. Whether it was that 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


701 


the exertion of singing was too much for her, or 
whether it was that her little soul had half-flown 
up to her Mother’s throne in Paradise, we cannot 
tell. Mere Angelique watched her anxiously, and 
tried to make her take more rest and more nourish- 
ment. But Madeleine declared she was not ill, and 
laughed so merrily at the idea of being made an 
invalid of, that she almost persuaded her superior 
there was nothing wrong. She was the first in 
choir in the morning, and the last to leave it at 
night, and so earnest and ardent in all her duties 
in the poor-school and in the convent, that no one 
suspected how much she suffered in the long sleep- 
less nights, or during the day’s arduous toil. Mere 
Angelique was unwilling to check her fervor. How 
could she forbid self sacrifices which did not seem 
positively injurious to life, and were every hour 
adding fresh graces to her young and saintly child ! 
And why did Madeleine almost seek for suffering, 
and so sedulously hide every appearance of it ? 
Because she was suffering for God, and she de- 
sired that none but her Spouses should know it, 
lest even the natural expressions of sympathy or 
kindness which she would receive, might rob her 
of a portion of her reward, or, rather, lessen the 
glory which she hoped to give to God by patient 
and silent endurance. 


702 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


Christmas was approaching rapidly, and Made- 
leine’s fervor and love of suffering deepened almost 
daily. She thought of the homelessness of the In- 
fant Jesus, and the pains He endured in His holy 
childhood ; could she choose but wish and pray to 
be likened to her Lord even in suffering? His life 
on earth was no tale to be told and forgotten, no 
abstract theory to be admired and laid aside ; no 
Gospel story to be read and commented upon as 
very wonderful, or very beautiful, but by no means 
to be imitated in daily life. No ; the life of a nun, 
the life of a good Catholic must be modeled on the 
life of the Son of God ; for, dare we assert that He 
came to be our Redeemer and not to be our Ex- 
ample ? 

On Christmas Day, Mere Angelique saw plainly 
that Madeleine was seriously ill, but she begged so 
hard to remain with her sisters at recreation, and 
then to say vespers in the choir, and then to say 
just one little prayer at the crib in the cloister, 
that the gentle mother’s fears were half charmed 
away by the playful caressing manner of her treas- 
ured child. Mfere Angelique did not notice it then, 
particularly, but she remembered long after, how 
peculiarly loving and clinging Madeleine had 
seemed that day. She went to rest cheerfully 
some time before her sisters, though she would 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


703 


gladly have remained up later had it been permit- 
ted, but her obedience was too perfect for her even 
to express a desire when once her superior had 
spoken decidedly on any subject trifling or im- 
portant. Before Mere Angelique retired to her 
cell for the night, she stole softly to Madeleine. 
She seemed to sleep quietly ; and after putting 
some additional covering over her, she retired 
without disturbing the object of her solicitude. 
The next morning Madeleine attempted to rise as 
usual, but found herself unable. The hemorrhage 
from which she had suffered while a postulant, had 
returned with most alarming symptoms, and as 
Mere Angelique sat by her bed anxiously waiting 
the Doctor’s arrival, she could not but feel the most 
lively apprehension. The medical man lived at a 
distance, but when he arrived he said at once that 
the superioress had done all he could have recom- 
mended, and gave his opinion at once and candidly. 

Dr. Martin was a Protestant. He lived on until 
he was an old man, but the look of exceeding joy 
that he saw on Madeleine’s face when, in reply to 
her earnest entreaties, he told her that she could 
not live many. days, perhaps not many hours, never 
left his memory ; and when he, too, was dying, he 
asked and obtained the grace to die in the Faith 
which had made her so happy. 


704 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y, 


During the three days which preceded her death, 
M^re Angelique scarcely left her child. Even at 
night she could scarcely be persuaded to take the 
rest that was absolutely necessary. The moment 
that danger was apprehended, the confessor was 
sent for, but Madeleine had been at confession a 
few days before, and needed no long preparation 
for receiving the last sacraments. Never could the 
sisters forget the calm, angelic look with which she 
greeted each dearly loved one as they entered the 
infirmary where she had been removed, and in 
which she was the first of the little band to receive 
the last sacraments and to enter the presence of 
her God. 

The following day she saw each sister alone for 
a few .moments, and they said good-by as dear 
friends might, who are parting for a little while, 
and hope, with an almost certain hope, to meet 
soon and forever. 

On the Feast of the Holy Innocents, Mere An- 
gelique closed her eyes, never more to open on 
earth until that dread day when all flesh shall stand 
before the judge of the living and the dead. A few 
moments before she died, she had received into her 
breast that God who was so soon to be her judge ; 
then she turned to Mfere Angelique with a smile 
of seraphic joy, and gently taking her hand she 


HORNE-HURST RECTOR Y. 


705 


placed it on her head. The mother’s heart guessed 
what the dying one asked, though her lips almost 
refused to pronounce the words of blessing. She 
stooped towards the dying nun, and heard her 
murmur, softly, “ Ask them to forgive me all the 
bad example I have given them, and to pray for 
me. And forgive me, my own, my precious moth- 
er, all the pain and anxiety I have given you, and 
may God reward you eternally for all your love to 
me and all the care you have given me.” 

She paused again, and once more her lips mov- 
ed, ‘‘Jesus, Mary.” Then she turned towards a 
statue of the Immaculate which (it was the only 
request of any kind she had made during her ill- 
ness) had been brought into the infirmary, and 
stretching out her hands, uttered in a thrilling 
tone of joyous intensity, Mother, oh. Mother ! 
take me to JeSus !” Her prayer was heard. For 
one moment nature struggled faintly for life. One 
moment more, and Mary had answered her prayer, 
and Madeleine was gone Home. 



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*0 TRUE SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES. By Dr. Francis De Sales 1 5C 01 

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LIBRARY OF IRISH NOVELISTS. 

WORKS OF GERALD GRIFFIN. Complete. Reprinted 
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I^-other. Printed on fine paper and illustrated with a 
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Cloth, $15 

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10. Life and Letters of Gerald Griffin. By his 
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00 .^ 


00 


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BANIM’S WORKS. | 

The only Uniform Edition to be had of these celebrated S 

“ Tales of the O’Hara Family,’’ Reprinted from the ^ 

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second series, 12 VOLUMES, 16mo, cloth. 
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CONFESSIONS OF AN APOSTATE. By Mrs. J. Sadlier. 
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GUIDE TO CATHOLIC YOUNG WOMEN. By Rev. G. 
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75)6> 
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1 
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^ THE CASTLE OF ROUSILLON. Translated from the 

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LADY AxMABEL AND THE SHEPHERD BOY. 

TALES AND STORIES FROM THE FRENCH OF YIS- 
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STORIES ON THE BEATITUDES. 

TEN STORIES FROM THE FRENCH. 

THE POACHERS, and other Tales. 

ROBERT MAY, AND TOM HOWARD. 

CLARA MAITLAND. A Tale. 

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THE PRETTY PLATE. 

WINIFRIDE JONES ; or, The Very Ignorant Girl. 
KEIGHLEY HALL, and other Tales. 






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THE VATICAN COUNCIL AND ITS DEFINITIONS : a 
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OUR LADY OF LOURDES. Translated from the 35th 

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CONVERSATIONS ON LIBERALISM: AND THE 

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POEMS OF THO.MAS D’ARCY McGEE. With an In- 
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Sadlier. With Portrait 2 50 

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LECTURES ON IRISH AND OTHER SUBJECTS. By 

Henry Giles 2 CO 

CATHOLIC ANECDOTES ; or, The Catechism in Exam- 
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Translated from the French, by Mrs. J. Sadlier. 

Complete in one volume 2 00 

IVINIFRED COUNTESS OF NITHSDALE. By Lady 

Dacre 1 00 

LOVE; OR, SELF SACRIFICE. By Lady Herbert.. 75 




IN PRESS, 

AND WILL BE ISSUED WITHOUT DELAY : 

THE LIFE OF THE LIBERATOR, DANIEL O’CONNELL. 

This will be, perhaps, the crowning work of Sister Mary Francis 
Clare’s life, neither labor nor expense having been spared to 
make it, both in a literary and artistic sense, a lasting mon- 
ument to the great Irish Tribune. It will contain the fol- 
lowing, besides many other original Illustrations, by distin- 
guished artists : 

1. O’CONNELL A BOY. 

2. “ I’LL MAKE A STIR IN THE WORLD YET.” 

3. O’CONNELL PLEADING FOR IRISH FREEDOM. 

4. O’CONNELL AT THE CLARE ELECTION. 

5. O’CONNELL AT THE BAR OF THE ENGLISH HOUSE OF 

COMMONS. 

6. O’CONNELL IN JAIL. _ 

7. “THE RISING OF THE NATION.” 

(These illustrations will include Portraits of the Hon. Charles 
Gavan Duffy, Denis Florence McCarthy, John Martin, M. P., 
etc., etc.) 

8. THE O’CONNELL MONUxMENT IN LIMERICK. 

9. THE O’CONNELL MONUMENT IN DUBLIN. 

10. THE ROUND TOWER AND CRYPT IN GLASNEVIN CEME- 

TERY, ERECTED TO HIS MEMORY. 

11. O’CONNELL’S TOMB. 

12. DERRYNANE HOUSE. 

13. DERRYNANE ABBEY. 

14. O’CONNELL LEAVING IRELAND FOR THE LAST TIME. 

15. THE DEAD TRIBUNE. 

16. THE O’CONNELL MONUMENT AT THE IlilSH COLLEGE, 

ROME. 

N. B.— Sister Mary Francis Clare particularly requests that all 
subscriptions and names of subscribers shall be sent at once to 
Messrs. Sadlier & Co., 31 Barclay Street, New York, whom she has 
appointed her sole agents for thivS work. 


The following are some of the Works by the 
NUN OF KENMARE, all of which may 
be ordered through Messrs. Sadlier & Co. : 

AN ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF IRELAND—from the 
earliest period to tlie present time. Royal 8vo, 600 pp. ; 

Three interesting maps, with upwards of 100 illustrations, $5.00 

LIFE OF ST. PATRICK, Apostle of Ireland. Thick toned 
paper ; ornamental printing ; magnificently illustrated. . . . 6.00 

HISTORY OF THE KINGDOM OF KERRY. Royal 8vo, 


500 pp. Illustrated.. 5.00 

“ JESUS AND JERUSALEM,” OR THE WAY HOME 1.50 

LIFE AND REVELATIONS OF ST. GERTRUDE 3.00 

PATRIOTS’ HISTORY OF IRELAND. Illustrated 1.25 

ST. CLARE, ST. COLLETE, AND THE POOR CLARES. . . . 2.75 

ST. FRANCIS AND THE FRANCISCANS 2.50 

INTENTIONS FOR MASS AND HOLY COMMUNION 1.00 

DEVOTIONS FOR THE ECCLESIASTICAL YEAR 

THE SPIRIT OF ST. GERTRUDE 1.00 


N. B. — The sales of these and other works written by Sister Mary 
Francis Clare, have, during the past few years, exceeded two hundred 
thousand copies 










